Shieldmaiden and Swan
by Anarwyn
Summary: Do you want more than a few pages of love story between Eowyn and Faramir? Do you want that to include a friendship with Lothiriel and subsequently a love story between Lothiriel and Eomer? Then you have come to the right place! No slash, no funny business, just good-old story telling.
1. Chapter 1 - Meeting

For the first chapter, I am including a bit more than most chapters will have- I have to get you hooked somehow! Feel free to skip the forward, it's just an explanation of my style and reasoning. And absolutely feel free to leave me a review! This is my first full story, so I'm sure I have much to learn. Please, enjoy...

_A Forward by the author. _

_This is an imagining of a longer "falling-in-love" story between Faramir and Eowyn, which is set in book-verse, but rather pretends as if movie-verse is almost all that occurred between the two; meaning that they spent nearly every day together in the Houses of Healing, including the celebratory kiss on the wall. Although I did my best to keep much of the events of the book the same and with the same timeline, I left out most of their canon conversations, unless I managed to weave them into the story. _

_This is also an imagining of the entire love story between Lothiriel and Eomer, as neither book nor movie have given us anything on the subject. I have attempted to keep their interactions canon (made easier by the fact that Lothiriel never speaks!), but of course I only have so much to go on. _

_The stories are told from the perspectives of Eowyn and Lothiriel each, back-and-forth, as this includes the beginnings of their (non-canon) life-long friendship. _

_I found a friendship between the two to be natural, as I have developed friendships with both of my sisters-in-law. Plus, Eowyn is not of the jealous type. I cannot see Lothiriel having a jealous streak either, considering that she and Eowyn both grew up surrounded by men. I think both of them are glad to finally be around a like-minded woman. I say like-minded, because I cannot imagine Eomer choosing otherwise. I know that the alliance forged through their marriage might have been a factor, but Eowyn and Faramir already set a strong alliance between Gondor and Rohan. This fact, besides Eomer's personality, leads me to believe that he found a love match. As for Lothiriel, she may have been jealous, callous, and cruel, but I find it unlikely given that this is Middle-Earth and she is a woman of nobility. I imagine her to be gentle, cunning, and very kind. Tolkien held women and royalty in high esteem and this is his mythical world. He is allowed to decide how to treat them and characterize them. Which brings me to why I am writing this. While I am sure Tolkien had some thoughts to these romances in his head (particularly that of Faramir and Eowyn), he simply did not write much of them down. Yes, I know he gave Eowyn her redemptive arc and Faramir his happy ending through each other, but I simply love these characters and I wanted to write them how I think they might have reacted had they been perhaps a bit less perfect. A little mess makes for a fun story. So here it is...my little mess to add to the expansive Tolkien universe._

L

I see her. She is probably ten meters away. I thank the man for pointing her out to me, and begin to walk toward her. It sounds casual, and it probably looks casual, but I feel anything but casual. I mean, this woman before me had defeated the Witch King of Angmar! She was a shieldmaiden! She fought _in battle_ with _men_. The White Lady of Rohan is a marvelous creature. And she's standing _right there_.

E

The gardens in the Houses of Healing had been quite peaceful, but this courtyard is a little different. A lot more fountains and stone sculptures. _Elegant_. That's the word. Like the many buildings in the upper levels of the City. And the dresses and jewels I see on these ladies of Minas Tirith. Is everything here more elegant than at home? Home. How I miss it. Rolling hills and thick forests. That is beauty. This cold, stone city is...elegant, but not inviting. Rohan is a much more loving environment. Speaking of home, where is my dear brother? Ah yes, just as I suspected. By the food. I should go talk- someone is curtsying to me. A young girl. Close to my age. Pretty face. And what gorgeous hair! Why, it's dark as a moonless night. And curly as a hobbit's! I want to touch it. But I mustn't. This is a formal occasion. Oh no, she's talking.

'Good day, White Lady-'

White Lady? Great. This is going to be awkward.

'I have heard many great things about you.'

I enjoy her accent, slightly different than most I have heard in the City.

'Well, don't believe everything you hear. Stories can be misleading.' A smile to let her know you aren't actually upset with her...there it is, a smile back. Good, she isn't as uptight as I thought.

'I have heard some...unusual things. Forgive me, but is it true you fought in the Battle at Pelennor Fields?'

'Yes.' Her eyes widen. I guess that is pretty unusual.

'And, did you also destroy the Witch King?'

'Yes, with some help from a hobbit.' I smile. Merry was such a good warrior. Her eyes are even wider.

'And you sneaked out of the Houses of Healing to ride with King Elessar to the Black Gate?'

Oh no. I'm going to laugh.

'No, my lady, I am afraid that rumor is not true. I could hardly move my arm, much less fight, when the King set out for Mordor.'

'Oh. I am sorry rumors have already spread about you, Lady.'

Now _that _will have to stop.

'Please, my name is Eowyn, daughter of Eomund.'

'And I am Lothiriel, daughter of Imrahil.'

Wait, I've heard that name. Smile while you think. Imrahil...oh. He's the Prince of Dol Amroth. So this girl is pretty important. She's a princess.

'Yes, your father is Prince of Dol Amroth, am I correct?'

'Yes, my la- er, Eowyn.'

No wonder she called me Lady. It's been ingrained in her since birth.

'So you're a princess? That has to be exciting.' Oh no, I seem to have touched a nerve of some sort. I always say the wrong thing.

'Yes...it can be.'

Great. Good old silence. Here's the awkward part. What's her name? Lot...Lothiriel, that's it. Lothiriel, Lothiriel, Lothiriel.

Okay, change the subject.

'I love your hair. How do you get it to curl like that?' She looks alarmed. How can hair be a touchy subject?

'I didn't do a thing to it.'

Now my eyes are wide.

'Do you mean, you woke up like this?'

'My hair does naturally curl...is yours not naturally straight?'

'Well, yes, for the most part. But you didn't have to...fix it in any way?'

'Why would I? It isn't broken.'

A giggle escapes me.

'Well mine certainly is when I wake up.'

She giggled. But it wasn't a joke.

'Seriously, my hair does all sorts of wonky things.'

'But it looks so tame and easy to handle. Not like mine. I can't force it to do anything.'

She's actually upset. It looks perfect!

'Tame and easy? Try flat and stubborn.' I'll have to explain. Never did I _ever _think I would be talking to a princess about _hair_.

'You see, when I wake up in the morning, my hair tends to be straight on one side and crumpled on the other. And don't even get me started on the front.'

'Well how do you make it straight?'

'I have to dampen it with water and then brush it constantly until it is dry again. Sometimes I have to hold parts of it a certain way to make sure it dries correctly.'

'Brush? Like you would brush a horse?'

'Yes, I suppose. You don't brush your hair?'

'No, I don't.'

Luckiest girl alive, this one. I'll let her know.

'Then you are very lucky indeed.'

'But you-'

'No, I shan't hear another word about it. Just accept the fact.' I hope she knows I'm not serious. I actually like talking to her.

'Lothiriel, if you don't mind me asking, how old are you?'

'I will turn twenty in just two months, my lady.' Really? But she seems so much older.

'Oh, I thought you were a little older.' Is she smirking at me? I _do_ like her.

'How much older?'

'Well, I thought you and I were the same age, but that is four years older than you are.'

'Oh! I, too, am shocked at your age. I thought you were just twenty and two.'

'Then I suppose neither of us is a good judge!' It feels good to laugh. It's been so long. I think I've made a friend in this girl. But someone is tapping her shoulder, probably asking to take her away from me. It is Faramir. I still don't know what to think about him. He had made many advances a few weeks ago...but since then, nothing. _Well, you did kind of reject those advances._ Oh, right. Why did I do that? _Because you know what Eomer would say if-_.

'I would like a word with my dear cousin, may I steal her away from your company?'

Cousin? I guess all of these nobles are related in some way.

'Well, if you must. I have enjoyed my time with her, but I suppose I should share.' Nicely phrased.

'I am delighted to have met you, Princess Lothiriel. I hope we speak again soon.' And I actually meant it.

'And the same to you, Lady Eowyn. I think we shall meet again.'

Keep smiling and bow. Perfect. I'm getting better at these polite encounters.

Her hair even bounces beautifully as she walks away.

L

She was everything I had hoped she would be. Pretty, intelligent, humorous, polite when necessary, but not fake. She really liked my hair? Maybe I should try brushing it. And her skin! Flawless. So she's twenty four? Uncomfortable in a formal setting for being that old. Of course, I've been raised this way, so maybe that's the difference. I should have asked about her family. Her hair was so light. Do all Rohirrim have that color hair? No, they can't possibly. Right? Faramir might know, I should ask him tomorrow. Faramir. I am glad he warned me about Amrothos before Father saw him. Luckily my strong-headed brother listened to me this time. And what about Faramir? He said nothing of our betrothal to me tonight. Perhaps we will not be wed. His father was the one to suggest it, after all. Now that he is dead...oh I shouldn't be thinking like this. A life was lost. _But that life also won't cause you to worry any more. _Stop it. That isn't right. _But it's true._ Just don't think about it. Just hope Father won't force you into it anymore. Won't force both of you. Faramir doesn't want this anymore than you do. _And why not? Am I not good enough for him? _Oh shut up! It's because we're _cousins_. _And_ he's about sixteen years older than you. It's certainly not unheard of to marry your much older cousin, but if it can be avoided… But what if I have to marry someone horrible? Someone who doesn't respect me? What if I'm forced to marry a dreadful man? _At least Faramir is a good person._ Perhaps father will let me marry for love. _Stupid. That's not your duty. You are a princess, and princesses do not marry for love._ I know. What if I could have both? What if I loved the next man father picks? _Even more stupid. Stop being a child. You are almost twenty. You should accept your fate._ Am I not allowed a bit of hope? _Just enough to keep you alive._ Alright. I can accept that.

Now go to sleep! Father won't be happy if you're slow tomorrow.

Again, please review and/or ask questions! -Anarwyn


	2. Chapter 2 - Planning

Hello, glad you made it to chapter 2! Please review and enjoy...

Chapter 2 - Planning

E

_Lady Eowyn of Rohan, _

_If it should please you, I invite you to accompany the royal family of Dol Amroth for this Sunday's luncheon at the third hour of the clock. If you are inclined to attend, instructions on how to arrive to the proper place are included with this message. I do hope you will acquiesce. _

_Yours kindly,_

_Lothiriel, Princess of Dol Amroth _

Such a lovely hand she has. A luncheon? My stomach turns slightly, thinking of how much I might misunderstand at that Gondorian table. I breathe deeply and set my jaw. How dare I think of not accepting such a proposal? What a cowardly thing to do. Of course I will go. I might even have a chance to see- oh forget about him! He is too busy to notice you anymore. Even if he does make an appearance, he will only ignore you. You are attending to get to know _Lothiriel_, not to see her cousin! Do not bring your shame with you. I suppose I should return my answer soon. Do I have paper here? Yes, perfect.

L

'Faramir!'

'Yes, little one?'

Curtsy.

'I remember that you have experience with Rohirric customs.'

'Not personally, but I am familiar with many.'

'I wonder if you can recall some dishes of that region? We are hosting a luncheon for the White Lady and I would love to surprise her.'

'Ah! Well you are in luck. I happen to know many of her preferred foods.'

'Really? Excellent! But, how do you know?'

He chuckles a bit sheepishly.

'It is a long story.'

'Then tell me the short version.'

He nodded slightly, a small smile forming on his face.

'We spent some time together in the Houses, while the King Elessar and the rest of the brave warriors were fighting at the Black Gate.'

Spent time together? Faramir and Eowyn? I don't see it.

'I was unaware of your...time together, as you say.'

'I suppose not many outside of the Houses would be aware.'

'Did you enjoy the time?'

'I did, for my part.'

'And what do you mean by that?'

'Naught, dear cousin. Only that the time is over. The world moves on, and so must we. Do you think?'

'Maybe…' His answer seems unfinished. There is certainly more to this story, and to his feelings about her.

'Come now, Lothiriel. Let us discuss this luncheon.'

'Right. And you are welcome to come, Faramir, if you have nothing else to occupy your Sunday afternoon.'

'I think I unfortunately have quite the list of Stewardly duties to attend to. Perhaps your next event will be perfectly attendable.'

No! That will not do!

'Poor Lord Faramir, not any time for himself, let alone his sweet, young cousin who wants for nothing but his company.'

His normally inscrutable face bears a mixture of worry and relief. Did I go too far?

But in a few seconds, he relaxed again.

'I apologize, my lady. How rude of me to forget of your feelings on the matter. I will do what is within my power to attend.'

'No apology necessary, Faramir. I will be delighted if you come.' He bows his head.

'But for now, shall we converse about the meal?'

Like I said, a bit shorter than before. The chapters will vary in length from now on. I think I will be posting every few days or once a week, depending on my schedule. Just to update you! Chapter 3 coming soon...

-Anarwyn


	3. Chapter 3 - Lunching

Chapters are getting longer...and I think my writing is getting better! Let me know if I am mistaken...

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Chapter 3 - Lunching

E

So many of my favorites eats! Meat pies, boiled potatoes, even some crusted fish. And curiously, that delicious cheese I was so fond of when I was stuck in the Houses...ah. Faramir. He _is_ here. Well, he isn't yet.

A servant pulls out the chair for me to sit. I am next to Lothiriel. There are place settings for seven other attendees. Lothiriel's father, her brother, her other brother, her other brother...wait, how many brothers does she have again? My question is quickly answered as men begin to fill up the room. I do not recognize the younger ones. They are all clean shaven and have dark hair like Loth, but light eyes rather than her honey-brown ones. Imrahil sits at the head. His sons all look like slight variations of him. One is accompanied by a woman with sandy hair and dark eyes and is seated to his right. He must be the eldest. I have never been good at remembering names! The woman sits opposite of him. Between her and I is another brother. Lothiriel introduces him to me as Erchirion. Across from him must be the youngest. That leaves two empty spots in front of me and Loth. I want to ask who else is attending, but Lothiriel throws herself into all the introductions to be made. Elphir and his wife Ariel are next to Imrahil, followed by the one I already know, Erchirion, and he at whom I guessed, Amrothos. As each man is named, he inclines his head and holds a fist to his heart. Ariel smiled, but it did not reach her eyes. I got the distinct impression she did not like me. Nothing to which I am not accustomed. I hear the door open again and look around to see who has arrived.

Faramir. But he is accompanied by a small boy. A child? He never mentioned this! The boy enters with a huge grin, but as he nears the table, his face falls into seriousness. He keeps looking at the woman, Ariel. The two sit in the empty chairs. Faramir sits opposite Loth and the boy opposite me. He has yet to look at me. Is he shy?

'Eowyn, allow me to introduce my nephew, Alphros.'

The little boy finally looks up from his hands. At the sight of me, his eyes light up and the grin returns to his face. Not shy! I smile back at him, suddenly filled with joy.

'Hello, m'lady! How old are you?'

'Alphros!' The woman hisses at the boy and apologizes to me. Yes, she must be his mother.

'I am not offended, Lady Ariel.' I wave my hand and turn back to the future heir of Dol Amroth.

'I am _very _old, my lord. How old are you?'

'Four!' He holds up four little fingers triumphantly, leaning onto the table.

'My goodness, you are almost a man!' Much of the table chuckles and Alphros sits back in his chair, still grinning.

'And I believe you are already familiar with my dear cousin?' Loth gestures to Faramir.

'A delight to see you again, Lady Eowyn.' I cannot escape this accursed title!

'A pleasure as always.' Did his eyes linger?

Imrahil stands with his arms outstretched.

'Now that we are all here and well met, let us begin the meal!'

Plates, silverware, and goblets clang together as servants bustle around with drinks and eaters dig into the food. I keep quiet most of the meal. Faramir assists Alphros with cutting some of his meat while the family tell each other of their doings in the past week. If I have a question, Lothiriel answers it for me. She almost seems to know my query before I ask her. I expected less laughter and more stuffiness in this Gondorian household, but this family meal surprises me. I actually find myself longing for the large, loving family I never knew.

Inexplicably, my eyes stray to the man at the end of the table.

The Steward has hardly spoken as well. I have the feeling he does not normally attend these luncheons. He is not particularly ignoring me, but neither is he making conversation. I know not what to make of him. The talk down the table turns to the new King and when he will return.

'I believe I have heard it will be quite soon. Perhaps in a day.'

'Do you think they could arrive today, Father?'

'I find that unlikely. We would have heard by now.'

'My Lord Steward, have you any information the rest of us are not privy to?' The youngest brother, Amrothos, looks over the head of his nephew for an answer.

'My watchmen tell me that tomorrow evening is expected. In fact, I really should be helping with preparations in the White Tower for the arrival of our King. If, Uncle, you will excuse me.'

Imrahil nods. Faramir rises from his seat to bow to the family. "Helping with preparations" my horse. Taking any excuse to leave sounds more like it. I clench my jaw in annoyance.

'Thank you for your hospitality.' He turns to me. 'My Lady.'

I am so shocked that I do not reply. Luckily, he quickly bends down to Alphros.

'Farewell, Alphros. I will see you when you return to Minas Tirith. Mind your parents for me.'

He smiles and put his large fist to the small boy's chest. What a curious gesture.

'Farewell Fara!' The boy nearly punches the Steward in his enthusiasm to return the strange action. The raven-haired man chuckles and walks back through the door from which he came. I do not realize that I have been watching him leave until the door clangs shut. My gaze shifts back to my nearly empty plate. I recount his playful demeanor with the child. Another side of him I have never seen…

.

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Feel free to ask questions! 

-Anarwyn


	4. Chapter 4 - Learning

I have been receiving some feedback! Thank you to everyone who reviewed. 

Specifically to reviewer "Boramir": I have made sure that Eowyn knows who Imrahil is for the rest of the story, though he isn't a big character. I tried to focus more on my main four than others. 

To "Guest": I will try to cut paragraphs more; yes, "E" is from Eowyn's perspective and "L" is from Lothiriel's and that is how I have structured the story; as for the modernity, I am unfortunately a product of my time ;) but I do think the language improves with later chapters. As for the "hair thing," I did mean for the first chapter to be a bit more light-hearted and silly. Eowyn herself remarks on how ridiculous it is to be talking about hair to a princess. I also chose to make Lothiriel very child-like from the sheltered lifestyle she has led. 

I hope you will all continue reading and reviewing. I will answer when possible and when it seems necessary. Enjoy!

Chapter 4 - Learning

L

I hear Derebond telling Father of news from Elphir since he and Erchirion returned to Dol Amroth. Father, Amrothos, and I have stayed to support The City until things settle back down, but the ruling family can't leave our home without a royal presence for too long. Derebond receives all news from outside messengers and then relays it to us. He meets with my father daily, always after breaking the nightly fast. Occasionally, he then finds my brothers or me personally. I notice that today is one of those days, as I hear footsteps coming toward me from the other room.

'A message for you, Princess.'

'Happy day! What is it, _Dear_-ebond?' I love to tease the very serious man. He has yet to acknowledge my cheek.

'The Lady Eowyn has invited you to meet her in the stables.'

'Really? When? Why?'

'Yes, my lady. This afternoon, at two of the clock. I believe she wants to teach you Rohirric horse customs.'

'Goodness, that sounds intimidating. Luckily I have my favorite riding dress with me. Thank you, Derebond.'

'A pleasure, as always, Princess.' He bows to me and leaves the room. I wonder what he does the rest of the day. I have never asked him. Should I? No, too late now. Perhaps next time.

She chose such a lovely day to be outside. Somehow the weather seems to have wanted to celebrate the return of the King ever since the coronation. I was so fascinated by the elf, dwarf, and hobbits that I hardly remember the actual ceremony. But I do recall the comfortable weather. Even today, the breeze is blowing through the open windows of every dwelling on this street.

The sun is kindly beaming on my back as I wander down the many levels of the White City. Such gorgeous marble architecture everywhere, especially in the upper levels. The lower levels are lacking in the neat little gardens I am used to seeing, though. The streets are dirtier, the houses unkempt, but the people I see still have smiling countenances. Money does not make one happy. Safety, friendship, hope- these are what keep the sun in the sky and the- the- oh it's no use. I am no poet, nor author of fine words. I enjoy reading them, but I do not think of such beauties. I leave that for more talented individuals.

But who do I see standing up ahead? A tall man, with very wide shoulders. Seems to be a warrior? And a handsome warrior from what I can see. The wind blows his shining golden hair in front of his face. A Rider of Rohan! How exciting! I wonder if he knows my Eowyn.

'Pardon me, sir knight.' Curtsy.

He shakes his locks back into place.

'Afternoon, miss.' That Rohirric accent again.

His eyes flit over my hair and chest before he smirks a bit, his hair once again being unruly.

He is dead handsome. A slightly darker golden beard covers his chin. His eyes are bright and piercingly blue, like Eowyn's. Lucky Rohirrim.

'Good afternoon.' Smile and keep eye contact.

'May I assist you, my lady?'

'Lothiriel, please.'

'A beautiful name for a beautiful day.' Is that a blush I feel?

'You are most kind. And yes, I am supposed to meet a friend near the stables, perhaps you know her? She is Eowyn, the White Lady of Rohan.'

His smile widens. He does know her!

'I think I could point you in the right direction.'

'You do know her? Isn't she a lovely woman?'

'Until you get to know the real her, I suppose.'

Excuse me?

'Whatever do you mean, sir?'

'Well she can be a bit of a- er, well-' He is getting much uglier by the second. 'What I mean to say is that I know her better than any person. She is my sister.' Sister? But that would make him-

'Your-? Oh, oh my stars, my apologies, your majesty.' The KING? Curtsy for your life!

'Worry not, worry not.' He chuckles, touching my shoulders, and bends his face toward my own.

'Please, do not stand on ceremony here. I have yet to even be crowned, officially.' He is grinning at me. My foolishness.

'If I had known who you were-.'

'You might not have even spoken to me. I am very glad you were unaware, Lothiriel.'

My name sounded foreign on his lips, but not poorly. Rather exciting.

'Thank you, my lord.'

'"Eomer" will do just fine, Princess.'

'You know who I-?' Another voice cuts the air.

'Eomer? Is that you?'

'Wyn! There you are. Our friend here is looking for you.'

'Lothiriel!'

'Hello, Eowyn.' I smile at her, but I can't help the feeling of being caught in the wrong.

She puts an arm around me.

'I see you have met my oaf.'

I can't help but giggle.

'Be polite, Wyn. We are finally in good company.'

Her eyebrow cocks, but she turns to face me, smiling widely.

'Indeed we are. How was your walk, dear?'

'Very satisfying.' My eyes flicker to the king. Why did I do that? Surely she noticed.

'Excellent! Shall we see those stables now?'

Please, anything to get me out of this situation.

'Yes, of course.' She wrapped her arm in mine.

'A pleasure to meet you, Eomer King.'

'All my own pleasure, Lothiriel. Perhaps we will see each other soon.'

Smile, nod, turn. A tingle sped up my spine at the thought of speaking with him again.

Walk, walk, walk. Eowyn is being very quiet. What did she notice? How much had she heard? My heart is still racing.

'I hope my brother has not left you with a poor opinion of the Rohirrim.'

'Certainly not! He was very kind to me.'

'Then I hope he did not make any unwanted wishes known.'

'He was a perfect gentleman. Do you think so poorly of him?' Why am I defending him so?

She merely laughed.

'I love my brother, but he can be, well, let me say "uncouth" at times.'

'I understand. My brothers can be quite the burden occasionally...but I love them, too.'

'Family is a curious affair.' We both laugh. I am back to feeling at ease.

We reach the stables shortly after. The smell is _very _unpleasant.

'Ready to learn?' Eowyn looks so excited to teach me.

'I am.' This will be interesting.

E

_A fast learner. A few more sessions like that and she will be riding like a Shieldmaiden in no time. I still cannot believe she met Eomer alone, at a time that I could do nothing to help! Maybe he is growing up. She seems so delicate. But I care not what she said, if she sees Eomer as any sort of gentleman, she must be in touch with her rougher side. In fact, would outsiders not normally think you to be delicate, too? Do not be so hasty in your assessment of a woman. You know better. _

I walk back to my chamber, still thinking about the day. The dinner tonight had been bland. I miss the delightful food I shared with Lothiriel in her home. _Well, not her real home. I wonder what Dol Amroth is like? Is it similar to Gondor or completely different? _I strain to recall my adolescent education. A seaside city, I believe it is. I have only ever seen paintings of the ocean. I have heard it is beautiful. I hope to see it someday. Perhaps I will receive an invitation from Loth once she returns home. For now, though, _I_ will be the one leaving…

Uh-oh...where is Eowyn going? Chapter 5 on the way...;)

-Anarwyn


	5. Chapter 5 - Visiting

Long chapter this time! I think you will like it.

I used a few Rohirric expressions in here, and I hope you find them acceptable and realistic.

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Chapter 5 - Visiting

L

'A message for you, my lady.'

'Thank you, Derebond.' Who is this from?

_My dear Lothiriel, _

Ah, Eowyn's handwriting.

_I am afraid I must leave you for a time. _

Oh no! Why?

_My brother is, of course, King of Rohan now, and there are many urgent matters he must attend to at home. See, Eomer was meant to take the place of our father as Chief Marshal of the Riddermark, not the position of King. He did not learn of the office like my cousin did. I stayed often with Theodred for his lessons. Therefore, I learned a lot about what the king did. This is why I must go with Eomer. He needs my help, Loth, and Rohan needs my help. I am glad to provide another service to my people. I do wish to see you again, before we depart. Please write me when you have the time to meet somewhere. I will be leaving on the eighth. _

_All my love,_

_Eowyn _

Am I to lose my friend so quickly? We have grown close these past weeks and here she is, leaving me. And Eomer is leaving, too? My eyes sting and my throat is tight. Am I going to weep, like a child? Ridiculous. A tear falls onto the letter, smudging her cousin's name. No, hold yourself together. This is not the end of your friendship. Just make sure they remember you. They? Have I already fallen for his charms? No, no, you simply want the king to remember your family fondly. This shouldn't be about you anyways. I take a deep breath and wipe my eyes.

A quick flash of my mother's face passes before my eyes. She was smiling in her bed. I'm not even sure if the memory is real. I hope it is. What would she do at a time like this? I sigh aloud. Only one person would be able to tell me.

'Father?' There he is, speaking to Amrothos.

'Just a minute, child.'

Just a minute, child. The phrase of my life.

'Hello, sister.'

'Hello, Amrothos.'

I fidget with my dress and try not to listen. They are arguing again. My brother has been having difficulty sleeping since the end of the War. I think that has contributed to his sore mood towards my father. "Battle sickness" they call it. He just hasn't been the same.

'You wish to speak with me, Lothiriel?'

I bring myself out of my thoughts as Amrothos storms away. I think about following him, but I turn to my father's attentions instead.

'Yes, Father, Eowyn and the Rohirrim are leaving the city in six days. I will miss her sorely, but I do not know what to do.'

'I do not believe you can do anything about it. Surely you knew they must leave to their own land?'

'I do not mean to stop them. But...' I search fruitlessly for the right words.

'Your mother never liked partings either.'

I look into his kind eyes, so different from my own.

'How did you know I was looking to talk about her?'

'You are just like her. She hated to say farewell and would often hold parting feasts.'

'Then shall we do so, too?'

'I do not think we need to. King Elessar will surely want to thank the fine warriors for their service.'

'Yes, of course. It is well to have a king, is it not?'

My father's usually reserved expression cracks into a soft smile.

'Indeed, my swan.' He cups my cheek in his hand.

I close my eyes at the small gesture.

'I love you, _ada_.'

'I love you, too, Lothiriel.'

E

I hope I am not wrong in appearing without an invitation. They are much more formal in Minas Tirith. But I am already here. Oh, go on, ask that man.

'Pardon me, sir.'

'Yes, my lady?'

'May I enter your master's house?' That sounded stupid.

'Certainly, follow me.'

So it _is_ that easy.

Wow, I hadn't looked at their garden before. It is truly very beautiful. So green and lush. Of course, everything remotely green looks very healthy and lush here because of all the stone. How I hate this stone. So unfeeling, so uniform, so heartless.

Ah, we've made it to the hall.

'Eowyn, White Lady of Rohan, Prince Imrahil.'

Bow. That is still strange to hear. _White Lady_.

'Come, Lady Eowyn. What business have you here in my house?'

The words were cold, but his tone was friendly and welcoming. How did he do that?

'I wish to speak with your daughter. Is she available?'

'I will call for her. Forlion.'

'Yes, my lord?'

'Fetch my daughter, for she has a visitor.'

'Yes, sire.'

So _that_ is not any different here than at home.

'I understand that you are leaving soon.'

'Yes, my brother and I, along with a number of Rohirrim, are leaving tomorrow.'

'There will be a great feast tonight in your honor, correct?'

'Indeed. I am still not used to being treated so well. It seems that, once Gondor loves you, you are loved forever.'

'That is mostly true, Shieldmaiden.'

'Eowyn!'

'Good to see you, Lothiriel.'

Her footsteps are light and quick across the grand hall. Her cheeks are slightly flushed and her eyes look sad.

'I cannot believe you are leaving so soon.'

'Neither can I. I will miss you very much.'

Loth has such a pretty smile.

'Let us go to my quarters, where we can talk more freely.'

I nod, turn to the Prince, and curtsy.

'Thank you for having me in your home, Prince Imrahil.'

'You are welcome any time, Lady Eowyn.'

I guess he really is nice, if a little haughty.

She takes my hand and leads me up the gorgeous spiral staircase. It is made of marble, but it doesn't bother me as much as the rest of the city. The speckles of scarlet make it more enjoyable.

'I like these stairs.'

'You should see our palace in Dol Amroth.' She sounds wistful.

'I would love to see the Bay of Belfalas.'

'You know of the Bay?' Her eyes are as wide as the Gap of Rohan.

'I do now. I asked for a book on your city because I knew almost nothing about it.'

'Is that so? Eowyn, you are too sweet!'

'Sweet?' I had to laugh. 'I do believe you are the only person to ever describe me thus!'

She frowns, not saying anything.

We turn a corner, straight into a large room with lilac curtains on two windows and a large bed with plum colored blankets and silver pillows.

'Wow,' I breathe as I look upon the lush furniture.

Lothiriel gives me a knowing smile and gestures to a set of plush chairs whose colors match the bed.

'What do you think, Lamb?' She had taken to calling me that out of irony.

'The colors are so rich and deep. You must have paid a fortune for someone to dye these so many times.' I touch the blankets on the bed. So soft!

'I am sure my father did. All I did was choose the color and-,' she waves her hands, 'here we are!'

'Loth, it is beautiful.'

'Just like you, Lamb.'

I snort and stick out my tongue at her. She giggles and clasps my hand, leading me to the sitting area.

'Now do not tell me you haven't seen luxury before. You had an even more royal childhood than I!'

'The luxury of Rohan is...different. Many more shades of green, horse motifs, rich earth colors, and gold. Here I see different colors, more of water, and silver.'

Loth nods, looking around the room.

'Perhaps I should change my palette, now that you are leaving me. Greens and golds. And I will hang a horse's head on my wall, to replace you when I am lonely.' Her lips quiver as she represses her urge to smirk.

I smack her tanned wrist before chuckling at her smart mouthing.

She smiles softly as she looks out of the window. I look, too. The sun is setting. For a few minutes, the White City turns golden. It has never looked so beautiful to me.

'Loth.' I keep my voice low.

She turns back to me, her face dark and grim before she hides her feelings with a smile. Dear little one. Always smiling.

'Yes, Lamb?'

'What is the matter? I know this cannot all be for my parting.'

She feigns surprise, as if to say, "whatever do you mean?"

I lower my head to look straight into her eyes.

'Don't get formal with me. You can tell me anything, Loth.' I envelop her hand in mine.

'I am being foolish.' She shakes her head dismissively.

'You are only being foolish for not telling me.'

This time, she nods.

'Alright. It is my cousin.'

'The Lord Faramir?' I spoke too suddenly, too loudly. Her eyebrows raise.

I try to rearrange my face, but all of the feelings that flooded my brain as I said his name could not be hindered. Lothiriel began to smirk. Suddenly we had switched places. She is now holding my hand.

'Indeed.' She doesn't say anything about my outburst, but I know this incident is not going away with haste.

I relax my muscles and my voice. My control has softened since my time with the Worm.

'What about him troubles you?'

Loth returns to her own mind. I feel slightly relieved.

'Well, it isn't just him.'

'No? Who else is involved?'

'Um…' She could be infuriating sometimes.

'By Brego, Loth, what is it?'

She bites her lip, looking at me. _Really_ looking at me. Her eyes drop to our hands.

'I want to tell you before you leave. I just don't know how.'

I breathe in slowly, trying to control my temper.

'Lothiriel, whatever you have to tell me cannot be so bad.'

She still looks wary.

'Has something happened between you and- Faramir?' I stumble over his name. Stupid.

The princess shakes her head violently.

'Has something happened between him and someone else?'

Again, no. But she does raise her eyes to mine in curiosity, just for a second. I remember the kiss on the wall. I push the memory away.

'Has something happened between you and someone else?'

She hesitates, her eyes darting from side to side. Then she slowly shakes her head again.

'Lothiriel, you know I will not lecture you on anything you tell me.' I start to smirk, wondering.

'Who is he, Loth?'

Her eyes widen, but she continues to shake her head, more vigorously this time. I have never seen her so silent and intimidated. What is the matter?

'Alright. What happened? Did he make an advance?'

No again.

'Did you?' I try to keep the surprise out of my voice.

No.

'Lathspell, Loth. Did anything happen between you and Sir Secret?'

No? Then what in Eorl's name is she so nervous about?

'Then just tell me who he is.'

'Fine!' She's standing up, turning away from me. I don't move.

'Your brother, Eowyn. Your brother.'

.

.

Hmm a cliffhanger ;) evil me!

-Anarwyn


	6. Chapter 6 - Sharing

It's finally here...

Chapter 6 - Sharing

L

My hands are covering my face. What is she going to do? What will she think of me?

Is that laughter? _Laughter?_ I turn around.

'I'm sorry, my _brother_? What about my brother?'

'I, well, I-' I am at a loss for words.

'Loth, are you trying to tell me that you, er, think about my brother?'

I knew I ought not to have said. Now she will ridicule me for my-

'Because I have no issue with it.'

_What?_ My hands fall and I drop back into my seat.

'Oh Loth. You are so, well, so Gondorian.' She was still grinning.

'What do you mean?'

'I have had dozens of girls ask about my brother. Not a one of them has been so terrified as you!'

I slump in my chair.

'Told you I was being silly.'

'Nay, Loth. You are simply young and anxious. Look at me. Do I seem angry?'

'No.'

'Of course I am not! I have never been so flattered for my brother, if I am honest.'

I look back to the floor. My heart feels heavy still.

'Loth, I am happy.'

She smiles, but I cannot return the gesture.

'I am not, Eowyn. Why would this happen to me now? I am of age and meant to marry Faramir, not some handso-I mean, not some, er, other man.'

Her eyes were larger for a moment before she blinked and swallowed.

'_You_ are marrying the Steward?' She tried to pull off a smirk.

'Well, I confess that I know not anymore. The War has changed much. I have not been told otherwise, though.'

Eowyn doesn't answer. She is staring out of the window again. The sun is nearly gone.

'What is it, Lamb?' She acts strangely whenever my cousin comes up in conversation.

'I was thinking about you, Loth.'

'Really?'

'Yes, are you not the one with a problem?'

'Oh, yes, yes of course.'

'How do you feel about your cousin?'

'He is...a very nice man. A gentleman. Serious, unless one catches him. I remember one early morning when I was nearly fourteen. Faramir and his brother had come to visit us in Dol Amroth. The night before, I had received the news that Faramir and I were to be married when I was of age. I had barely slept that night. When dawn came about, I decided to take a walk. I was talking to myself of duty and family when I nearly walked into him. I had wandered into the gardens without watching where I was going, you see. Well I was mortified, but he looked down at me, and Eowyn, he grinned ear-to-ear, knelt in front of me, and told me not to worry. He said to me, "the sun is dawning on a new day for you, dear cousin. See, this darkness will not endure."'

I had risen while I recounted the tale, lighting a lamp absentmindedly.

'I had never been so comforted in all my life, Eowyn. But I never saw that giddiness in him again. I know not why he was so happy that morning, or perhaps he awakes like that every morning. I suppose he is a wonderful man, Eowyn. I fear he is simply not the man for me.'

'And my brother is?' She is looking at her lap, her eyebrow nearly touching her hairline.

Is she serious?

'Eowyn, I-'

'No, Loth, I apologize. My mind...I confess I am not in the moment.'

I take her hand. 'Lamb, please, tell me your thoughts.'

She looks out of the window. It is dark now, but the moonlight illuminating her face makes her look more beautiful than sad. She looks peaceful, even with the war raging behind her cyan eyes. I wish I could help her.

She's inhaling, turning to me. Straightening her shoulders.

'Lothiriel, what do you think of the King?'

The King? What is he to do with anything?

'I confess I know very little of him. He seems kind and generous to his people. And something in him reminds me of the statues I have seen depicting the kings of old. Something stone-like in his gaze. Sometimes he seems perfect, but in an unsettling way. Do you find that to be true?'

'No, I had not noticed that quality in him. He is a fearsome warrior, great in his deeds and merciful to his soldiers.'

She rubs her arm absentmindedly.

'Yes, I suppose you would know that better than me. Eowyn, why would you ask _me_ about _him_?'

'I think you are the only one who might understand.'

Something in her eyes told me what she meant.

'Do you love him, Lamb?'

She closes her eyes for a moment before responding.

'I don't know that I ever did, Loth.' She looks concernedly out of the window again.

'I think I simply wanted a way out. Coward.' She shook her head as she spat the word. 'I saw a man to relieve me of my troubles, to carry me into battle, to rid me of my subpar life.' Her voices rises in anger.

'A life that I should have seen as a gift.'

'Eowyn…'

'No. I should have, Loth. I should have seen that my fantasies were nothing more than that.'

I know not what to say. She isn't to blame. I reach out for her hand, but she jerks it away.

'Do not pity me. That is the worst thing you could do.'

'No it isn't. You should not scorn pity from a kind friend, Lamb.'

She looks back at me, her face softened.

'Yes, of course. How could I have forgotten so quickly.'

'Forgotten what?'

'You are very similar to your cousin, did you know?'

'Faramir? No, he is much smarter and braver than I.'

'Nay, let it not be true! You may be intrigued to know he said nearly the same words to me in March as you said just a moment ago.'

'Is that so?'

'Indeed, though I did not take them as much to heart as I should have. I think he might have loved me if I had.'

Love? This emotion is running rampant. _Focus on your friend. She needs someone to talk to. _

'Why do you say that he does not?'

'He told me that he did. He kissed me and asked if I loved him in return. But I could not return the words. I was afraid of what that meant. Who was I to receive such generous love? I wonder if I have missed my chance for happiness.'

'Oh Lamb, do not despair! There is hope yet, in these times.'

She sighs and takes my hand again.

'Thank you, Loth, but I tire of this subject. Please, tell me about _your_ love life.'

'Well I haven't much of one right now, do I? I've barely spoken to-well-you know.'

She laughs and tells me not to worry about it.

'I suppose I could share one little story. Although I apologize for the dullness-it won't involve a kiss like yours did.'

'Then tell me a different one!' She winks and grins at me in jest.

'I cannot! I have only the one story.'

I chuckle a bit as she straightens her back in surprise, ready to listen.

'In that case, go on.'

I roll my eyes in mock annoyance.

'Right. There was one boy when I was ten-and-seven. I escaped my geography lesson once to meet with him. He was a baker's son in the lower levels of my city and cut quite the fine figure.'

She grins again. Her blue eyes have flecks of gold in the light of the lamp.

'I was to meet him on a secluded beach, but alas, his mother had followed him all the way and took him home by the ear once she saw who he was meeting. My tutor had inquired about my feigned illness besides, so once I returned, the whole house knew of my dalliance. I was so mortified that I never missed another lesson that year, even when I was legitimately ill!'

'Gondorians!' She wrung her hands in disbelief. 'If my uncle knew all the lessons I missed. Well, perhaps he did. I was always off riding with boys through the hills, singing and laughing in the wind.'

I ache for her experience.

'How wonderful that sounds.'

'Fear not, dear, you have so many years ahead of you to explore.'

'Not likely with all of these brothers around.'

'You think I allowed my brother to interfere? Of course, he was usually off with girls.'

'Was he?' My heart flutters.

'Oh, sorry. Er, not that much. Here and there. He would not have been, er, indecent anyway.'

I don't believe her, but there are more important issues to discuss.

'Oh, enough about that. Let us discuss how to discover whether Faramir is a lost cause.'

'Oh no, Lothiriel, don't.'

I hold up my hand, palm out.

'Come now, you cannot leave without knowing if he loves you still.'

'But you two are betrothed, are you not?'

I pull my hand up to my chin, as if I am thinking.

'Indeed. I am beginning to wonder about the state of our relationship.'

She shakes her head, trying not to laugh.

'Eowyn, if you love him, then-'

'But I am yet unsure if I love him!'

She sounds exasperated, but excited at the same time.

'Shh, Lamb, we haven't all night. The feast starts in just an hour!'

.

.

I hope you followed all of that dialogue! Next chapter is one of my favorites! I hope you enjoy it, too.

-Anarwyn


	7. Chapter 7 - Feasting

I hope you're all ready for a world of angst...and more conversation with our menfolk!

(_sweostor- Old English for "sister")_

Chapter 7 - Feasting

E

Why does my stomach feel this way? My heart racing as if before battle? This is a simple feast, nothing to be anxious about. Oh my, here he is. Don't see me, don't see-oh no. Here he comes. My, what a lovely color on him. The red collar naturally focuses the eyes on his lips. Or perhaps just my eyes…

'My Lady Eowyn.'

'My Lord Steward.' Steward still? He has a name, Eowyn. He doesn't look bothered.

'It would seem I am in the presence of a vision tonight.'

'Heavy on the mead, my lord?' Take the compliment! Idiot!

His mouth twitched all the same.

'No amount of mead could change your beauty, Lady.'

'I certainly feel a lady tonight, with these fine jewels. Your dear cousin is so very generous.'

'My mother's necklace has not looked so perfect in decades.'

'Your mother's?' That sly little-

'Yes, my lady. She wore it to nearly every event, I am told.'

'I apologize, my lord, I would not have done your mother the-'

'Please,' his light touch on my shoulder makes my skin leap-'she would want to share it with you.'

I think of nothing else to say, so I smile, noticing the faint wrinkles in his forehead and the way I seem to melt into his eyes-

'May I tempt you, my lady?'

'I'm sorry?' My cheeks burn. He's holding out a small, white cube.

'If I recall, you rather enjoy this cheese.'

'Yes, yes.' Grab the cube. A brush of the fingertips.

'Are you enjoying your final evening here, my lady?'

'No, I mean yes, very much.' Idiot! 'I mean to say that I wish this was not our final meeting.'

A dark eyebrow twitched, but his gaze remained steady.

_Our_ final meeting? What am I saying?

'Your answer delights me.'

Collect yourself, Eowyn.

'Why is that, my lord?'

'You give me hope that we will meet again.'

'Yes, that would be favorable.'

I am still holding the cube. I nibble at the corner.

He opens his mouth, but another man approaches.

'It would seem you are kin to mice, rather than me, _sweostor_.'

I roll my eyes as Eomer bows to the Steward in greeting. Before I can retort, he speaks.

'I confess that I pushed the cheese onto her, Eomer King.'

'You did no such thing. I am delighted in this gift.' I pop the whole cube in my mouth. I don't feel like speaking to these two right now.

They carry on conversation as I chew, looking around the room. I could really use Loth right now, before I make more of a fool of myself in front of-

'My lady?' Too late. I swallow the cheese.

'Yes?'

'The man asked if you would like some wine, Wyn.'

'Yes, my lord, thank you.' Wine? I don't even like wine. Always either too sweet or too bitter. But you will have to drink it now, idiot.

'Excuse my sister, please, Faramir. I think she must long for home.' He shifts his weight and glares at me out of the corner of his eye. Well he can go-

'Yes, I think we all wish for some peace and normalcy now, do we not?' The Steward looks at me with kind eyes, but there is something sad in his expression. I smile at him as he hands me a glass from a passing tray.

'I have never been much for peace and quiet, my lord.' His gaze softens. Is that hope I see?

'Aye to that.' My brother laughs. Always ruining the moment. Moment? Was that-?

'Loth!' She appeared at my elbow, beaming. She is far more beautiful than I. Her dark curls frame her face, her light brown eyes sparkle, and her cheeks are rosy from the bit of wine absent from her cup.

'Hello, Lamb! Enjoying the festivities?'

'Lamb?' Eomer smirked.

Lothiriel blushed furiously as his gaze shifted to her.

'Yes, very much, Loth. And you?' I shoot daggers at my oaf brother.

'Oh yes.' She is quiet in her answer. By Brego, if Eomer says one more stupid-

'May I say you look absolutely stunning, dear cousin.'

'Why thank you, Faramir.'

'Indeed, my lady. Rather as the sun on a day of rain.' Not the smoothest comparison, but my brother was never much for words. Loth doesn't seem to mind one bit. She curtsied and somehow looked beyond her young years in the look she gave him. My eyes dart to his face. He likes her, alright. I suddenly feel a need to protect her.

I purse my lips slightly and catch the eyes of the Steward as my brother asks Lothiriel about the wine. He had seen the same thing I had. Did he always look at me like this? Why is it so difficult to know his heart? I return myself to the conversation at hand, feeling the heat creep up my neck.

'Lovely idea, your highness, if no one else objects.' Loth looks at Faramir.

He bows to the princess and the king. 'Please, let us not keep you.'

I nod my head in quick approval...of something.

Eomer holds out his arm, and he and Lothiriel walk toward the gardens. Many heads turn as the two go by, but neither of them seems to notice. I realize I am beaming, despite my previous misgivings.

'Well matched, do you think, my lady?'

Is that what I'm thinking?

'Yes.' I hesitate. 'I hope she sees what she is up against.'

'I hope _he _does.' The steward's lip twitched again.

I feel my eyebrows raise, wondering what he meant. Is he speaking of himself as competition?

'Do you mean to say that you know something I do not, my lord?'

'I simply have known her for a long time. I have met many the man who thinks she is easy prey. I think I need not tell you how they fared.'

'Then I suppose betrothals do not mean as much here as in Rohan.'

'My lady? Forgive me, who is betrothed?'

'Are you and the princess not to be married?'

His face looked anguished for a moment before he resumed a neutral expression.

'Who told you?' I hit some sort of nerve.

'The lady herself.'

'Indeed? And what exactly did she say?' Still neutral.

'She explained that the two of you have been intended for each other since she was ten and four. Admittedly, she was unsure of your intentions under the current circumstances. Am I to understand that nothing has changed?' I keep my voice light, but I am annoyed. Why is he so hesitant to tell me? Just say it. Gondorians!

'I have yet to give the matter much thought.'

Hm, that was unexpected.

'Forgive me, but does that not seem imprudent, my lord?'

'Yes. The truth is, I haven't had Lothiriel on my mind much at all, until quite recently.'

'How recently?' I am confused. Why would he-?

'Within perhaps the past month.' Because of me?

'I see.'

He looks at his shoes. Embarrassed? Too bad. I want some straight answers. Now.

'If I may ask, my Lord Steward, if you are not betrothed, and I see that you have not seized the opportunity to converse with any of the lovely ladies here tonight, why have you not sought my company since March? Many weeks have passed without more than a word here and there between us. I believed that we were comrades. If I have been mistaken, please rid me of that misunderstanding.'

I can't help it. Everything I had been feeling came out in this instant. Politeness be damned. Pride be damned. I need to know.

'Forgive me, Eowyn.' I warm at my name on his lips. Stupid.

Wait, is that all? No excuses, no denial? No, I need his reasons. I must know why.

'Why should I?'

'You have no reason to, fair one. I have been avoiding you. I will not deny the truth. In this endeavor, I have been selfish.'

'Selfish? I would not ascribe that vice to you, no matter what wrongs you commit. I have long admired your selflessness.' Seriously, he is way better at it than me.

His expression does not lighten. He turns his head slightly to scan the room.

'May we speak more privately, my lady?' Almost a whisper.

He is so serious that I nod my head curtly, ready to follow him to the garden. However, he starts instead toward a corridor. Just how private does he want to be?

We walk down the long corridor and turn into another. All the while, he looks straight ahead, walking as quickly and quietly as possible. He seems totally lost in thought, yet very determined at the same time. He is a wonder.

We end up walking into a much smaller, yet just as splendid garden. The only light comes from the moon and the few lanterns of the tiny space. I find myself wondering about the uses of the garden, rather than considering what the steward has to say; until he began to speak, his back turned to me, looking up.

'Woah to he who looketh. Woah to he who toucheth. Bright the light and dark the night. Surrounded without notice. Ne'er be fairer, ne'er be swifter. Dare to only speaketh.'

What? Poetry? This great warrior and leader, a poet?

'I have thought many times about you, my lady, in the weeks since the spring. More than I care to mention.'

'Then why, Lord? Why not speak to me?' The desperation in my voice is unnerving. Have I become so dependent? He is turning back to face me.

'I told you. I was selfish.' His hand tells me not to interrupt.

'Eowyn, I knew from the first time I met you that I needed to speak to you, to learn from you. I wanted to comfort you, and yet I yearned for your comfort. I knew your mind and heart would mirror yet oppose my own. You are the most interesting and beautiful woman I have ever met. So you see, I have been selfish from the very beginning.'

I am at a loss. He feels all that about me? How can he have known so much so early?

'Selfish?' The word still doesn't sit right with me.

He sighs and continues.

'While the war continued, you and I seemed to be the only persons in the city. I looked forward to every meeting with you more than the last. When the war was over and everyone returned, I confess that I believed you would want nothing more to do with me, for what can a woman of your standing want from a wounded, broken steward? No, your attention surely would return to the heroes of the Great War, the men who deserved your praise. And as I saw that my predictions came true at the victory feast, I withdrew myself. I did not want the pain of seeing you fall in love with another. I could not bare losing the memories of your happy face with me to your happier face with him.'

So many thoughts swirling in my head...did he love me? Wounded, broken? Victory feast?

'The victory feast? What predictions?'

'When the soldiers returned from the Black Gate, you offered the victory cups to the Kings. I saw the admiration you have for King Elessar, the care you took in handling the goblet, and how much you radiated joy the rest of that night. Of course you did, the king is certainly more-'

'The _king _and I are nothing more than comrades in arms, Lord Steward.' How foolish. Could he not see?

'Yes, I have since gathered as much. But if not him, still many others would be more suited to you. Men of high honor, courage, and skill.'

'I do believe _I_ am to be the judge of which man may _suit_ me.' I cross my arms in disbelief at his stubborn refusal to understand me.

'Indeed, but tell me, Shieldmaiden of Rohan, would you ever choose a lame, mad horse over a strong, healthy one?'

'Are you intending to sell me a lame, mad horse?'

The tiniest of twitches.

'Certainly I am not. I have no intention of giving you anything unworthy or imperfect.'

'Unfortunately, in all my years of purchasing these great steeds, I have yet to find a perfect one. But many who are imperfect are more than worthy.'

He closes his eyes. I think I am frustrating him. I can't help a twitch in the corner of my mouth.

He parts his lips to speak, but I take pity. No more babbling about.

'My lord, why do you think so little of yourself? I always enjoy the time we spend together. You are intelligent, noble, kind, strong-'

He turned his head at the last word as if he did not believe it. Because of his time in the houses?

I touch him near his shoulder.

'Look at me. Am I weak?'

'Of course not, my lady.'

'How can I, a woman who spent weeks in those healing houses, be stronger than a warrior who spent less? Sir, you could certainly throw me to the ground if I attacked you right now.' He blinks twice quickly, but otherwise makes no objection. 'Now tell me how weak you are.'

But I interrupt him before he can begin.

'Would you say that I am as mighty as the men who fought in the Battle of Pelennor Fields?'

'Yes, my lady.'

'Then you cannot think all of them to be above you, including me. I certainly do not.'

His eyebrows rise a bit in surprise. Perhaps he is beginning to understand. He needs a lot of hinting. Go on, then. Final blow.

'Faramir, I have met not one single man as captivating as he before me.'

_What is he doing?_

'What are you doing?'

He is fallen to his knees in front of me, bowing his head and holding on to the front of my skirts.

'Lo! I have been a fool! Missing my nose for my feet!'

I am alarmed by his behavior. A mighty man as he to be fallen at my feet! What passion and vulnerability! No one can see him like this. _I_ should not be seeing this.

'My lord, please, come to your feet. If someone should see you…'

'Let them see. These long months have I been too proud. Let them see my shame.'

I kneel on the cobbled path in front of him, careful not to get the dress in the dirt.

'Then they shall see me, too. My lord, I also have been a fool. I did not see our relationship for what it is.' New thoughts, new realizations. 'In March, I could not see beyond my own grief. _I_ was selfish. _I_ missed you right in front of _me_. I beg your forgiveness for the pain I have caused you these past weeks.'

His eyes pierce me. Round, grey eyes. I feel heat on the back of my neck again.

'Eowyn, please leave-'

'No, my lord, I am afraid I will not budge until you forgive me.'

'There is nothing to forgive-.'

'Say the words, Faramir.'

He sighs.

'You are forgiven.'

I stand.

'As are you, sir. Now come along.' I lift him to his feet. His hands are large and rough. My ears must be on fire.

'Good chap.' I clasp his shoulder and turn away, facing back towards the door.

Good chap? What was I thinking? Before I take a step, my head falls into my hand. Why am I so bad at this kind of interaction?

He takes a step, putting his hand in the small of my back. I feel myself yearn for his embrace.

'Eowyn.' His whisper melts my heart, and I turn around, my hands finding his chest. His arms envelop me and our lips meet.

.

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Oh my! What will Loth think of this? Find out next time...on Disney Channel ;P

-Anarwyn


	8. Chapter 8 - Questioning

I intend to finish posting the chapters over this winter break, so expect a lot of activity from me! Hope you all are enjoying.

Chapter 8 - Questioning

L

'It happened _again_?' I cannot believe my ears. I intended for the night to go well, but I did not suspect how well!

'It did.' She looks dreamy. I suppose she is remembering the moment.

'Love looks good on you, Lamb.'

Her eyes snap back to the present. She shakes her head softly.

'How ridiculous of me to fall in love so close to my departure.'

'How romantic, Eowyn.'

'Hold your horses, Loth. How about you? You seemed very comfortable with my brother last night.' She feigns disappointment.

'Oh I am uncertain that he likes me at all.'

'Preposterous! What makes you say so?'

'He did not compliment a thing about me.'

'Wrong. I seem to remember a rather oafish comparison to a rainy day.'

'Oh he could have said that to anyone. What I mean is that he said nothing to set me apart from any of his other "conquests". He complimented my dress, my jewels, my hair, my-' Oh no, I cannot bring myself to say _that _one to his _sister_.

'Come along, Loth. Believe me, I have heard worse.'

'Well, he said that I possess "hips destined for bearing many children."' Wow that is so embarrassing.

'And you don't find that to be a personal enough compliment?' She snickers.

I sigh. 'Does that suffice for romance in Rohan?'

"I am afraid you are in for the long haul, my dear. Not many a poet has been reared in my land, and most of the men would think he was being witty with that phrase.'

'Oh my stars. But then, so he was trying to be romantic?'

'As close as he will likely ever be, yes.'

'Well this is glad news! He made all sorts of awful comparisons.' I cannot stop a grin from spreading ear to ear.

'Yes, Loth, I think he has it badly.'

'Has what?' What does she mean?

'Never mind. Must be a Rohirric saying. I mean to say that I think he likes you very much.'

My smile fades slightly as I realize.

'Then I am in a similar predicament to you.'

'It would seem so.'

E

The sun shines through my window, slowly filling my room with warm, yellow light. It doesn't wake me. I have been awake for hours. Hardly able to sleep all night, thinking about the party. Thinking about _him_. I do not wish to return with Eomer. I truly wish to remain here, with Faramir and Lothiriel. But I have many duties to attend to in Edoras.

_Let Eomer deal with them._ As if he could. _He is a grown man, Eowyn. _He needs my help. _Does he? Are you not concerned about being trapped in another life of service to your country, never living for yourself? _Maybe. I don't want that. But times have changed, haven't they? The Worm is no longer a threat, much less the Darkness that stemmed from Mordor. _That may be true, but you cannot be certain. Is Rohan the place for you anymore? _Of course, it is my homeland. Minas Tirith certainly is not. So much stone, so little warmth. _Let Faramir be your warmth. _

I cannot change my mind now, on the day of our departure. _Why not? You are the White Lady, a great and noble warrior of your people. Surely you deserve a break. _I do? Yet my brother does not? And Faramir himself, and the King Elessar? They all have worked tirelessly to redeem their people. No, I must do my duty. If these great men can, I can, too. _Does Faramir mean so little to you?_ I will return for him, if he be here. I will not decide my fate because of my feelings towards a man. _And Lothiriel? You finally have found another woman to confide in. _We will write. She may be young, but she is strong and understanding. She would not wish for me to abandon my people in their hour of need.

No response.

Time to rise. I have some moments left before my lady's maid will appear. I stretch my arms out. My left is still sore. I make sure to rub it with my thumb every morning. The stiffness will subside in a few hours. Hopefully before we ride. Today we set out for Rohan. For home. How I yearn for her grass and tall trees. The summer flowers will soon be rearing their heads. _Mother._ How she loved the summertime. I wish I remembered more about her. But today is not for looking back. Rather I look toward the future. Rohan's future, the world's future, _my_ future.

A sudden flash of Faramir comes to my mind. His strong hands, raven hair, and those entrancing grey eyes. I will have to say goodbye to him today, in front of so many people. What will I say?

'My lady? You are risen already! Excellent. Shall we prepare for the day?'

'Marweth, good morning to you.'

'Good morning, Lady Eowyn. Are you ready to be going home?'

'Yes, in a sense very much.'

'And in another sense?'

'In another sense, perhaps less.'

'Minas Tirith will miss you and all of the brave Rohirrim.'

I move to hug her. She is surprised at first, but gives me an understanding smile. That would have irked me not so long ago.

'I will miss your elegant city, but even more so her radiant people who have been nothing short of marvelous.' And I do mean that. However much I dislike the white marble surrounding me, I must admit that the Gondorians are much more likeable than I imagined.

'And so you will be welcomed every time you return, my lady.' A tear forms in the corner of her eye, but she does her best to not allow it to fall.

'Come now, shall we get you all fancied up for your parting?' Getting down to business. How very Marweth.

'Yes. What do you suggest for my gown?'

'Are you looking to leave a lasting impression or go somewhat unnoticed?'

'I suppose I _should_ say the latter…'

'Nay, my lady. I should think you may choose whichever feels most like _you_.'

'I _am_ fond of the leaf, Marweth.'

'Very good, my lady.'

She fetches a long, flowing gown of sage green, embroidered with silver leaves all around the edges. The low neckline always makes me feel rather stunning.

'And the blue mantle, as well, please.'

'But of course, my lady. We must always accentuate your brilliant eyes.'

I smile softly, feeling much more prepared to face the heavy toll of the day to come.

'The simple plait for your hair?'

'Yes- wait, no. Marweth, I saw a girl in the street the other day. Her hair was braided in such a way that half of her strands seemed to be up, but also down. The plait laid flat against her head, toward the top, while the rest of her hair flowed underneath. I found it quite breathtaking.'

'I believe what you are describing is similar to this?'

She proceeds to twist my strands together, dropping one here and picking up another there.

'Yes, yes you have done it!'

'We call this the waterfall braid, as the hair seems to glide and ripple down the back.'

'A fitting name. Can you do this all around my head?'

'Of course. Is this not my task?'

'Thank you, Marweth.'

'A last _hurrah_, Lady Eowyn.'

.

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PM me with any questions or comments!

-Anarwyn


	9. Chapter 9 - Parting

A short one this time. (Disclaimer: I use some direct Tolkien quotes in here, which I do not own, and I'm sure you can figure out which ones they are!) Enjoy.

Chapter 9 - Parting

L

The sun is hot today. There is hardly a breeze and sweat is beginning to pool in my clothes. Great. I wager that my face is shining, despite the powder I put on this morning. Not that it matters much. I have yet to see _him_. I realize that I have been staring into the ground. Chin up, princess. Represent your family. Worry not about your own self just yet. You will have many lonely days ahead of you for self-pity.

In truth, the hundreds of Riders who were ready to set out made for an impressive sight. Incredibly, they all had such light, golden hair. The shades ranged from almost white to nearly brown. Yet, unmistakably, all blonde. The same cannot be said for the horses, who were almost as restless as the men. They came in every shade imaginable: black, brown, grey, and even a few white. As I look around, I start to notice that the Rohirrim are grouped together in numbers of about one hundred. Are those families? No, I suppose it is a military assortment. Division? I know not the words. Curious that they would travel as if ready for battle. Is the War not over?

A horn. No more time to ponder. They are coming.

A very tall man with a serious countenance and a somber demeanor comes walking out from the city gates. Beside him walks- Eomer? I barely recognize him. He shines brilliantly in the high sun, his armor covering nearly every inch of his body. He is different from the man I have seen walking through the city and at feasts. He looks...kingly. A warrior king returning victorious. I am staring again. How unfair it is for him to be leaving me, looking so mighty. I have never seen anything more powerful and beautiful.

King Elessar cries out to the crowd.

'Behold, the King of Rohan and all the brave Rohirrim, my brethren. This alliance between our nations shall never be broken. The Peoples of Middle-Earth owe you their lives and their freedom. Never shall Gondor forget your plight to defend our city, so long as my line shall last. Go now, be at Peace in your own lands.' Eomer bows and replies.

'We ride home this day with both joy and sadness in our hearts. The Peoples of Rohan shall forever hold our alliance with the Peoples of Gondor, to the end of my line. May this gracious City never fall!'

The crowds cheered, from both sides of the Gate. More Gondorians lined the walls all the way to the edge of Pelennor Fields. Despite myself, I feel a smile breaking through my reluctant lips. He is so magnificent.

The kings embrace and everyone cheers again.

King Elessar speaks softer, but still loud enough for us to hear.

'Now, as you know, we have laid Théoden the Renowned in a tomb in the Hallows, and there he shall lie for ever among the Kings of Gondor, if you will. Or if you desire it, we will come to Rohan and bring him back to rest with his own people.'

Eomer answers.

'Since the day when you rose before me out of the green grass of the downs I have loved you, and that love shall not fail. But now I must depart for a while to my own realm, where there is much to heal and set in order. But as for the Fallen, when all is made ready we will return for him; but here let him sleep a while.'

They will return! Or at least, Eomer will. But how soon?

I had been admiring him this whole time and nearly missed seeing Eowyn and Faramir walking behind the two kings. They really make a splendid pair. Faramir is dressed in the black and silver of the Stewards, while Eowyn is a vision in green, plus a magnificent blue mantle. It seems to be of Gondorian make. From whom did she receive such a gift?

Faramir looks heavy and nearly forlorn. Or is that my imagination, because I know that he will feel as unhappy as me after they leave?

Eowyn turns away from the crowds and speaks to Faramir. I cannot make out what she is telling him. I find my jealous, wishing I could whisper to the person I am losing...

.

E

I am reluctant to leave him. I was unsure of how my heart would feel at this moment, but there is grief there. Yet, when Aragorn spoke of Uncle, my feelings shifted to those of duty and responsibility. I square my shoulders and turn to Faramir.

'My Lord, now I must go back to my own land and look on it once again, and help my brother in his labour; but when one whom I long loved as father is laid at last to rest, I will return.'

And I mean it.

In a whisper, so the kings would not hear, I tell him the rest.

'Faramir, if you still love me when we return, meet me in the stables upon my arrival.'

He takes hold of my hand and brushes his lips against the back of it.

'My lady, if an age passed and you had not returned, still would I wait upon thee.'

I wish to kiss him one last time. Instead, we turn to the kings and say our farewells.

'My Lord Aragorn.' I curtsy as he bows and kisses my hand. He still looks at me as some pitiful thing.

'White Lady of Rohan, the Peoples of Middle Earth, including many of your own men, are directly indebted to you. If ever you wish to look upon this City and her Humble Servant again, I hope it is not with sorrow in your heart.'

'What sorrow could this Great City bring me? Nay, King, I shall return many times over, with naught but fond memories in my head and glad tidings on my lips.'

His eyes change and his expression softens. He nods, and straightens his shoulders.

I suppose Eomer and Faramir must have finished their leave-taking, because they were both watching us.

'Come, _sweostor_, let us depart.'

Such bitter-sweet partings. But soon we shall return…

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Don't worry, they won't be gone for long ;)

-Anarwyn


	10. Chapter 10 - Feeling

Quite the chapter here. I hope you are ready for it...

(Disclaimer: same as last chapter!)

Chapter 10 - Feeling

_Some weeks later._

L

'Faramir?'

'Hello, dear cousin.'

'Have you come to see me?'

'Indeed. I intend to discuss a matter of some importance with you, if I may?'

I motion for him to sit on the bench next to me.

'Certainly! What assistance may I offer the Prince of Ithilien? Congratulations on the new title, while on the subject.'

'Yes, thank you. Well, I have come to discuss a breach of engagement.' His expression remains solid as ever.

'Have you?' My voice seems to have jumped atop a mountain.

'If you would find such a breach acceptable, yes.'

'If I would find? Yes, yes I- my apologies.' Pull yourself together, Lothiriel.

'Yes, Cousin, I happily and _firmly accept_ this breach.'

'I am glad, not only for my sake, but for yours.'

'Mine?'

'I am quite certain you would not be fond of me as your husband, Lothiriel.'

He is right, but I think not for the reasons he may suggest.

'Any woman would have luck on her side to be married to you, Faramir.'

'Nay, you are young and have much life to live. I am battle-hardened and dreary. Even were you to wish this marriage, I think I should not agree.'

'As for battle-hardened, I cannot imagine that a man in this time who has _not _seen battle will be easily found. And dreary? I have seen you as full of happiness and life these past months as never before. Nay, my lord, I think _you_, rather, would not have _me_. I am no shieldmaiden, made for glorious purpose and brimming with mystique.'

'Shieldmaiden? To whom are you-?'

'Oh Faramir, I beg you not to insult my intelligence!'

Finally I see the corners of his mouth lift, ever so slightly.

'Of course not. I am gladdened to see that you are not so easily led, Cousin.'

'And I am gladdened to see that you have finally found a woman, Cousin.' I smirk at him. Perhaps now he understands that I am no longer a little child.

'Found and soon lost.'

'Not lost, just...absent for a time. How long before they return?'

'Just five days. Do you wait for someone?'

'I wait for her, same as you!' And…

'Yes, of course.'

We both are silent for a time. He shifts his position, but does not leave. The silence is horribly uncomfortable, but nothing comes to mind to say! Thankfully, he breaks the quiet.

'You need not answer, and I may be terribly mistaken, but I remember seeing you in the crowd the day they left.'

'You are not terribly mistaken.'

'I may be, yet. I recall you watching quite intently as we walked out of the City Gates, and again as the horses galloped away. I was not intrigued by your behavior until after they were out of sight. You looked rather as I felt.'

He knows. Should I reveal myself? Try to keep a level head. But regardless, my voice comes out as barely more than a whisper.

'And how did you feel?'

He looks off to the north, towards Rohan.

'Lost, hopeless, desperate. I had felt these emotions before, but this time was different. During the War, I felt these so strongly that it dulled my senses, as if my vision was blurred, my shoulders carried the weight of the world, and nothing mattered. But this time, everything mattered. My heart was no longer heavy, but on fire with agony. I saw every face as happier than my own and every heart more complete.'

How does he articulate all of those emotions? And how did he see that I felt the same way?

'Did I look so morose?'

'Perhaps I only saw myself in you. You see, I told you I may be terribly mistaken.'

I cannot help myself anymore. I need to talk with someone besides myself.

'No, Faramir. You are not.'

He turns his head back to look at me. He shows no surprise, nor pity.

'Which one?'

'Pardon?'

'Which man caused you such pain in his departure?'

'Do you not know?'

He nods his head, looking down to his hands folded in his lap.

'Cousins and siblings, eh?'

Somehow just talking about it makes my heart light. I throw my head back and laugh.

'How did we end up like this?'

He smiles and puts his arm around me.

'We caught luck by the mane and refused to let go.'

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E

We reach the top of the hill. The White City still looks enormous, even an hour's ride away. Would I find him there? Would he actually have waited so long? What if I miss him at the stables? Surely he has more important duties than to wait by some odorous horses all day. Yes, I will probably need to find him on the highest level. That should not prove to be difficult, as we are meant to meet Aragorn's attendants at the gates and follow them up the streets to the palace. At least, Eomer will. I plan to tell my brother that Windfola is exhausted and wishes to go straight to the stables. Hopefully he does not follow me there. _Not that Faramir will be there_. He may be, and if he is, I would rather my brother _not _be present. _Not after the dreams you've had, eh?_ My neck is hot. No, I don't want to think of _those _right now. Just ride and see how the day transpires, Eowyn.

I try to put any thoughts of the day ahead out of my mind.

Finally, yet altogether too soon, our party reaches the renewed gates. As expected, we are met by Minas Tirith's royal guards.

'Eomer, Windfola tires. I am going to take her to the stables and will meet you and the King after she has had some rest and water.'

'As you wish, _sweostor_.'

He had seemed distracted all morning, as if he could not wait another moment to reach the City. I cannot be sure what he is so eager for, but I do not question when the stars align in my favor.

I nod to him and steer toward the right, trying to remember the location of the stables. I need not worry however, as Windfola appears to remember for me. She is such a remarkable creature. I pet her neck, leaning forward to do so. I smell the horses before I see them: hay, dirt, and manure. I almost forget the real reason for my departure to the stables.

'_Mae Govannen_, Eowyn.'

He is here!

'My lord?'

'An Elvish phrase, meaning "well met" my lady.'

'You are here.'

I am too dumbfounded to say anything else.

'Are you so astonished?'

His hair was recently washed and his chin free of stubble. My eyes are locked into his. Naught else in the world exists.

'I am so pleased, Faramir.'

No other words escape my lips. I slide down from Windfola, not bothering to tie her.

'You gladden my heart, which has been weary these long weeks, fair one.'

Over the initial shock, I begin to grin. Too long have I waited to be playing word games now!

He cocks his head to the left, his eyebrows coming together.

I walk briskly towards him. He does not falter. My arms throw themselves around his neck and we embrace.

I smell his thick hair, a relief from the horse-scent surrounding us, and relish in his warmth until he pulls away to speak.

'Now let it be known, Eowyn daughter of Rohan, that I love you and I wish to wed you, if it be your will. And if you will, let us cross the River and in happier days let us dwell in fair Ithilien.'

'Ithilien? Marriage? Then must I leave my own people, man of Gondor? And would you have your proud folk say of you: "There goes a lord who tamed a wild shieldmaiden of the North! Was there no woman of the race of Numenor to chose?"'

'I would have them say whatever they will, for it is no concern of mine. Yet I would not wish at all for my shieldmaiden to be tamed.'

His eyes flash, revealing a side of him I have only seen in my own imagination.

'That is well, for a shieldmaiden I shall ever be. Though I now wish to be more: a healer, a grower of good things, a woman at peace. Would you love me still?'

'Eowyn, you are a lady high and valiant and beautiful, I deem, beyond even the words of the Elven-tongue to tell. But now, were you old and plain and the poorest of the poor, still I would love you.'

I think my heart will implode with joy. Never have I felt so light, so free!

'And I, you, Faramir. Yes, I accept your proposal.'

He laughed merrily, hoisting me up and spinning me around in glee. I have never seen such a reaction from him! His energy is contagious, and I find myself wanting to tell the news to the whole city.

'Shall we head to the palace now?' I am finally ready to reveal my heart to my loved ones.

'Gladly, my dear.' He offers his arm, and I take it.

'Windfola!' I had forgotten about her completely. She had found herself water, so I led her to a stall, feeding her an apple from my carrier on her back.

I hurry back to Faramir, still waiting with his arm held aloft.

'My betrothed.'

We walk together all the way to the top of the City. We must have walked for miles, but I remembered none of it- only his arm, his eyes, and his child-like giddiness.

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Yay! Finally! I know you've been waiting for it! But lo, we are only half way through the story...

-Anarwyn


	11. Chapter 11 - Waiting

Enjoy the second half!

"_Wer_" - Old English for "man"

Chapter 11 - Waiting

L

'Lothiriel.'

'Yes, Father?'

'What do you know of the King Eomer?'

I freeze, unsure of what he could mean.

'Little. Why do you ask, Father?'

'I have seen him in battle, fighting and leading his men. I have only spoken to him as a soldier speaks with another soldier. I know that you have grown close to his sister since the end of the War, and I only wondered if you could tell me anything about his person- on a less formal level.'

'I see.'

'Does his sister speak highly of him?'

I think back to the conversations we previously had on the subject.

'I think so.'

'Not much the confidence for which I was hoping.'

'You had siblings, Father, you understand that they can have...difficult relationships between them. A loving relationship one may have, but one is aware of every flaw. My belief is that if you asked her for an honest illustration, you would receive a picture of justice, integrity, and good will.'

'Do you agree with this assessment?'

'I do, Father.'

'How have you discovered these traits?'

Just tell him. You hate to keep secrets.

'I have spoken with the man himself.'

'Good. I simply wished to hear from you.'

What?

'From me? I do not follow you.'

'Daughter, do you think me so oblivious to my own children?'

All I can do is shake my head slowly. My father smiled, almost smirking at my apparent lack of understanding.

'Little Swan, I am pleased for you to confide in me. When we lost your mother, I knew fathering four children would be a difficult task- not the least my young daughter. Aunt Ivriniel was helpful until her passing. With Finduilas already gone, I was, and continue to be, your last prospect of a parental figure. Thank Gondor that I survived the War for you. Your brothers are all but severed from my care, but you, my daughter, are my final gift to the world.'

I feel tears welling up in my eyes.

'I miss her.' He knows of whom I speak.

'So do I, child.'

He pulls me into his chest and I wrap my arms around him tightly.

'I love you, Father. Thank you for all you have given me.'

'I love you beyond the sea, Little Swan.'

After a few moments of silence, we pull back. I dab my face gently with my sleeve.

'So you think very highly of the new King, do you?'

'Yes, Father. I suppose he reminds me of you.'

'Indeed?'

'Yes, how I imagine you were at his age.'

He smirks again, taking a deep breath.

'Perhaps I should sneak off to a garden with him at our next meeting.'

'Father!' I cross my arms in annoyance. I did no such "sneaking"!

'Calm, Lothiriel, I only tease you.' He is grinning widely.

My cheeks are hot, but I giggle all the same.

'Please refrain, then. You may steal him from me!'

'I cannot believe the man could be lured away from such a beauty as my daughter.'

'Thank you, Father.'

'I thank _you _for your astute observations and advice, as always.'

He kisses my head before striding out the door.

Forever my hero.

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E

Just before we reach the stair to the Hall, I suddenly remember!

'Faramir?' I turn to face him. We stop walking.

'Yes, my love?'

'If we are to marry, then do you mean to say the princess and you-?'

'Ah, of course, I forgot to mention.' He still looks so giddy. 'I asked her for a breach of contract and she quickly accepted.'

'Yes, I imagine she did!' Nothing about the situation was humorous, but I laughed nonetheless. Pure joy is an intense emotion.

'Indeed! She must be more sensible than you.'

Trying to look hurt, but still grinning, I take his arm back in mine.

'She most certainly is.'

At the top of the stairs, guards pull the heavy doors open and reveal two men in conversation. One is large, burly, and gold-headed. The other is smaller and writing something down. I know the first and guess that the second must be a scribe of some sort. After finishing his sentence, my brother looks up from the balding scribe to see the new arrivals. He rises quickly from his seat without taking a look back at the smaller man. His face is glad until he notices how close Faramir is standing to me.

'Wyn? My Lord Steward.' Eomer bows his head, keeping the befuddled look on his face.

Faramir, still gently holding my fingers, bends his waist to my brother. I have never felt such nervous energy from the Steward.

'Eomer King, we bring you news and, we hope, great joy.' Faramir's voice shakes just slightly.

Eomer's right eyebrow lifts even higher. He looks almost angry as he folds his arms.

'Is that so? News from the two of you, eh?'

A less courageous man would have cowered at the tone of Rohan's king. I know the Steward of Gondor to be a brave man, but even he must have felt a shiver up his spine. Nevertheless, he swallowed and answered.

'Yes, from the both of us.'

The king did not release Faramir from his gaze. I love my men, but they do not know how to speak with each other. Before any misunderstandings can arise, I decide to take over.

'Dear _wer_, your she-wolf has been shackled. The wild mare tamed at last.'

Faramir swivels his head in my direction, his eyes wide. Clearly confused, he looks ready to speak, but luckily Eomer had given a toothy grin at the last of my words.

'I knew it!' My brother takes two large steps and buries my entire head in his arms. I cannot see Faramir, but I believe him to have smiled widely. Eomer finally releases me and holds out his hand to Faramir. The two men lock forearms, clasping each other's shoulders.

'Then we have your blessing?' Faramir asks, still astonished and unable to resist stating the obvious.

'Nearly. Let us spar tomorrow. If you hold your own, then you may have my little sister's hand.'

'Eomer.' How annoying. As if he has a say in the matter.

'Sorry, Wyn. The man must be worthy.'

'No, I meant that- oh, never mind.' Always useless to argue with him.

Faramir locks his eyes onto mine, smiling gently. He winks.

'And if I get the better of you, good King, am I to receive your lands and everything you hold dear, as well?'

'There is naught else I could offer. You are receiving she whom I hold dearest, my friend.'

I cannot stop the blush in my face. What an embarrassing, and yet loving, brother I have.

Having heard the ruckus, Aragorn enters the room from the far side. He is followed by a young man, likely a servant. Even without his crown and fine robes, he looks like a king, a leader. I can still see a sliver of the Captain I once adored, but now I see also many imperfections in his visage I had not previously noticed. He now seems rather too tall, his beard too full, and his skin so tanned. I cannot explain why these particulars bother me now.

'Congratulations! Shall I call for a feast?' The King smiles as he walks toward us, his arms open in a welcoming gesture.

Faramir bows before speaking.

'King Elessar, with your permission-'

'Prince! Do not stand on such ceremony, for this is a joyous occasion! A royal binding of our two nations,' he gestured to Eomer, 'through two of my most beloved comrades.'

Faramir and I look at each other lovingly, interlocking our fingers. I had not thought of it, but the King was right. This proves to be a great alliance for Rohan. Even in my selfishness, I still serve my beautiful homeland. Rohan. Theoden. Yes, that is why we came.

'Thank you, Your Majesty. However, I do wonder if it might be more appropriate to wait to announce our happy news. My brother and I have come for our uncle. We wish to bring him home.'

Aragorn puts a hand to his heart.

'Forgive me, my lady. I did not intend to dismiss your grief. Let us hope that sad days are coming to a close and that happier days will soon befall us again.'

'Indeed, I believe they already are.' I wrap my arm around the waist of Faramir. He gives a tiny twitch. I suppose this small gesture is not entirely Gondorian-approved. Or perhaps he is still bruised in his ribs. Either way, I let my arm fall back to my side. I do not wish him to feel uncomfortable.

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Did you see Eomer's reaction coming? Or did I surprise you? Let me know by reviewing or messaging!

-Anarwyn


	12. Chapter 12 - Reuniting

Thank you to my reviewers! A very short chapter this time, but I wanted the girls to have a moment all to themselves. Rest assured, next chapter will be very long indeed. (Perhaps too long!)

Chapter 12 - Reuniting

L

'Lamb!' Finally, I get to see her again.

'Hello, Loth.' She grins and receives my eager embrace.

'Of course I heard when you arrived, the trumpeting and all, but Father told me I could not just leave to find you. He said it was "unbefitting a princess" or something to not wait my turn. I have been trying to distract myself with reading and drawing and "princess befitting" activities, but nothing worked. I longed to see you so.'

Goodness I went on, all blabbering. Sounding like Ioreth, I am.

'I longed to see you, too, Loth. I have missed your company.'

She looks slightly preoccupied, as though she is keeping something from me.

'Eowyn, is there something you need to tell me?'

'Yes, Loth, there is.'

'Shall we...speak privately?'

'Yes, I think we should.'

I take her hand, nod to the door servants, and lead her to the next room. A smaller room. No echos or servant ears.

'Now, what is it?' I wait with bated breath and a small smile curling my lips.

'The Lord Faramir and I are to be engaged.'

'_Engaged!_'

Very thankful that I chose this room. I wonder how the entire city didn't hear me.

'Shush, Loth.' She is laughing at my surprise and awe of her.

'But, so quick to be engaged. When is the wedding to happen?'

'Well, we are _not_ yet engaged. I want to bury my uncle first. I want the grief to be over before we are wed.'

'I understand, Lamb. Will you then announce it when you return?'

'As I understand it. You Gondorians have your special ways.' She winks at me.

'Thank you so much for telling me first, Eowyn. I am positively ecstatic.'

'Thank you for your support, Loth. I love you.'

'I love you, too, Lamb.'

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#Girlpower

-Anarwyn


	13. Chapter 13 - Sparring

Sorry for the delay, I got really sick. 

This is one of my longest chapters and perhaps my favorite. Lots of menfolk in this one ;)

Chapter 13 - Sparring

E

I know it is stupid, but I cannot help looking forward to the 'sparring match' between Eomer and Faramir today. I sure hope Faramir knocks Eomer on his-.

'Good morn, would you say?' The servant girl beams up at me.

'Aye, Lorwen.' I am too distracted to say anything else.

The sandy-haired girl lays my breakfast down on the small table in my room. She is humming a light, happy tune.

'Lorwen, what has you in such a tiz?'

'I am excited for this morning, my lady! Two lords as fine in both skill and looks-' she stops, her eyes widen and her cheeks flush.

I cannot keep a small snort from my nose.

'I mean to say that-'

'Worry not, Lorwen.'

I lower my voice to a whisper, unable to contain my girlish side.

~'I revel in the chance to see them as well!'~

We both giggle.

'Thank you, my lady. Do you require anything else?'

'No, my girl. Please ready yourself for the _festivities_.' I wink. She giggles again, closing the door behind her.

Who am I? Giggling with the servant girl? Lothiriel has surely done a number on me. I suppose this is what it is like to have a sister, or at least a female cousin. I like it.

'Come now, we haven't all day,' I mumble to myself.

I get myself into my dark grey day-dress. I am so relieved to finally have my own clothes. Rohirric fabric is so much lighter. Much better for a day in the sun.

After I lace up my boots, I make my way down to the stables. Luckily I have been allowed to stay nearby, with the rest of the Rohirrim who have yet to return to our homeland. We will remain here until Theoden is laid to rest. I think by then most everyone will be staying at home. Except...me? What shall I do? I haven't given much thought as to where the wedding will be. I always imagined, as a girl, that I would marry at Meduseld. Would that be proper for my Steward, sorry "Prince" now? Would he not rather be at his home? This marriage thing is not going to be easy. I shall need to ask him, and I suppose the two kings will want a say as well. Just how many people are going to be part of our marriage!

I ride out past the gates, which are still rent from the War. The practice fields are on the starboard side of the White City. While they had been mostly destroyed (hadn't everything?), a rough reconstruction had been done for the day. Apparently the news that the Prince of Ithilien and the King of Rohan were to fight this morning had rolled through the city like a sand storm. So many men and women turned out that I could not easily catch a glimpse of the ring. _And I have come early! _

'Eowyn!' A light, clear voice rings out from behind me. I know who it is before I turn, but I turn nonetheless.

'There you are, Loth.'

'I had a little trouble with this girl.' She pats her mare on the neck. 'I think I may have disturbed her sleep.'

I laugh, shaking my head as I turn back to the sparring ring.

'Well come on then, let us not dally any longer!'

'Quite the turnout, eh?'

'I firmly believe that servant gossip is more powerful than any magic on this earth.'

She giggles and I grin.

Most of the peasants had walked the trail, so there were few horses to be troubled by the noise. An excited energy courses through the crowd. I wonder if they know what this 'fight' is about? I guess that at least some knew because eyes seem to follow me to the front. Faramir is already in the ring, dressed not in chain mail, but in a rather tight fitting uniform. My eyes naturally travel over his red back down to- my eyes jump back to his face as he turns around to see who has arrived. I smile, a bit sheepishly, and feel my neck turning red. He bows and I see his long raven hair is tied back by a piece of twine. All in all, a good look for him.

'Fair One, you look absolutely breathtaking.' Mixing my hatred for the "fair one" title with a compliment. How very Faramir.

'My Prince, dashing as always.' I curtsy with a smirk.

I almost reach my hand out to him, but he turns quickly to Lothiriel to wish her a happy morn.

'And the same to you, Cousin. And of course, good luck!' She winks at him. Faramir's light expression does not change as he thanks her for her favor.

'And you, my lady? To which of the knights do you give your favor today?' His eyes flash and my heart skips a beat.

'For now, the one who his present. Where is my brother?'

'I know not. Perhaps he forfeits.' Faramir tries to keep his face straight as both Loth and I double over with laughter.

As if he was awaiting our call, the King appears. _Unlike_ his opponent, my oaf has come dressed to the hilt. The crowd parts for his steed, Firefoot, and every face shines in awe of his presence. Nearly every face. I roll my eyes and Faramir chuckles, resting a hand on my waist for a just a moment before he walks tall to the man on the horse.

'It would seem Gondorians spar differently than us.' Eomer tries to sound as kingly as possible. All I hear is a small boy pretending he is my uncle.

The crowd chuckles, charmed by this foreign king. Behind Eomer rides half an _eored_, also dressed for war, though many of them still have sleep in their eyes. How ridiculous!

'Have you need of an entire army for a single man?' Faramir keeps his face neutral.

'What, this?' Eomer swings his arm in the direction of the sixty soldiers.

The crowd laughs this time.

'Nay, you must be mistaken. These are simply my brothers.'

'I hope I understand you to mean that you have also many mothers, or else the one would be very sore indeed.'

The crowd around me erupts into laughter. Lothiriel and I both cover our mouths and look to each other in total shock. Apparently neither of us had ever heard Faramir say anything of the sorts. I snort clear through my fingers at the sight of her terrified expression.

Eomer dismounts Firefoot gracefully. He stands a few inches taller than Faramir and much wider. He glares at the Prince until he is quite close to all three of us. Then he grins wickedly.

'Has no one told you of the stamina of a Rohirric mare, Gondorian?'

How dare he! I begin to raise my arm, but Lothiriel holds me back. I shoot daggers at her.

'Let him do it,' she whispers, tossing her head to her cousin. '_This _battle is as much his as the next.'

Yes, of course. I cannot fight Faramir's battles for him. How did little Loth see this and not me?

'Nay, I have only heard of the stamina of the Rohirric stallion, and his weapon of choice. Neither are rumored to be long at all.'

Again I am shocked! Yet now I feel a mixture of pride and resentment. My love has certainly bested my oaf, but in doing so has offended my countrymen. I push the thought aside. He is simply defending himself.

'Come, Gondorian, I tire of this babble.'

'You see? He proves the rumors true.'

Eomer draws his sword. I cannot blame him. But he should never have attempted a word row with Faramir. At the sight of their Captain, every Rohirric warrior draws his own weapon.

'I apologize, your majesty, but it does seem we spar differently here. No swords, my lad, only natural weapons.' Faramir raises his fists level to his chest as an example.

I gasp! What is he thinking? Eomer is going to _kill him_.

The wicked grin reappears on my brother's face.

'As you wish, my lord.' He sheathes his sword and the _eorlingas_ follow suit. Faramir gives the man space as he undresses, down to his breeches. I roll my eyes again and look to Lothiriel for a similar response. Eorl's beard! Her eyes are locked onto my big brother as he tosses his shirt over the fence. Of course, I had forgotten. I seem to be the only woman in the vicinity with her jaw still connected. The unmarried girls have likely never seen such a spectacle.

'Come, Loth, I think we ought to move.' I grab her arm and lead her outside of the ring.

'Sorry? Did you say something?'

'Oh, my dear girl.' I can only chuckle and shake my head.

As we move I notice both men watching us. Faramir nods to me. Eomer winks at Lothiriel. I immediately feel her become a little heavier. Don't tell me she is going to faint!

At last the sparring begins. The two men circle each other, keeping the distance. The Rohirrim jeer at Faramir, urging him to attack first. I think they are reveling in the chance to let out a few frustrations against a high-born Gondorian. Faramir does not seem to hear them. His sparkling, grey eyes never leave my brother's clear blue ones. Eomer's hands twitch. I can tell he is bored and ready to pounce.

I want to give warning. I want to join the men. But I hold my tongue and my feet. I hate waiting on the sidelines, but this is one battle that is not mine to fight. Faramir wishes to prove that he is worthy of me. My primal instinct tells me to expect him to win, to leave him if he is not up to the task. My humanity tells me to love him no matter the cost. Have I really come so far in my respect for this man? Am I willing to accept humiliation and loss of pride just to be with him? My stomach turns. Never have I felt like this before! Never have I been so willing and able to give of myself, not just in the physical, but in my entire being. _Is this humility?_ _Is this love? _So many emotions and revelations swirl in my head that I almost fail to notice Eomer jump!

Faramir dodges the fist only to meet the knee. The crowd roars. I hear protesting amid cheers. Eomer grabs Faramir's shoulders, pulling him upward. Faramir flails his arms, breaking the stronghold, and twists around, using his momentum to pull the bare arm over his shoulder. Eomer grunts in pain, but loses no time in kicking Faramir's leg out from under him, once again forcing my love to the ground. A large hand wraps around Faramir's wrist, but lo! The prince manages to wriggle out, somehow becoming the attacker. Now standing above, he pinches Eomer's exposed neck. This time my brother bellows, elbowing Faramir's ribs. The prince retreats a few steps, trying to regain his breath.

Again my heart lurches, wishing to assist.

Eomer stretches his neck as he waits. The grin he started with has been replaced by a scowl of determination. Faramir straightens, fists raised in front of his face. I can see he favors his left side now. But did Eomer not strike him on the right? The king advances, fists at chest height. Faramir punches first, using mostly his right hand. Eomer blocks most of them. No grin has returned. He will not underestimate such a worthy opponent. I can see that Faramir wishes to draw Eomer's attention to his left, but unfortunately for him, Eomer is not as stupid as he looks. While Faramir has left his right side open, Eomer punches him again in exactly the same spot as before.

The grey eyes widen, realizing it was not the younger man who was fooled, but himself. His face changes again in an instant, back on the offensive. After a few blocked blows to the face, the prince aims a kick at Eomer's knee. My stomach tightens, feeling my brother's pain. No sounds escape his lips, but his jaw clenches. Faramir kicks out again to the chest, knocking his quarry on his back. The mass of Gondorians cheer, but the half _eored_ are silent. They know what is going to happen as well as I. Faramir rears his right arm, aiming for the nose. Eomer's left hand shoots out to stop the blow while his right hand curves around to Faramir's neck. With gasps from the crowd, my heart is slammed to the ground. I squeeze my eyes shut for a second, my whole body screaming at me to stop it.

'Halt!' A scared, but clear voice shouts out from beside me. Every head turns in our direction, except the two in battle.

Lothiriel rolls under the fence. I want to ask what she is doing, but my voice is caught in my throat. I can only look on in shock.

'My lords!' She sprints to the men on the ground, tears streaking down her face.

Eomer looks over his shoulder at the small, dirty woman begging him to release her cousin. He looks extremely bewildered as she bashes his back with her fists. Eventually his hand relaxes, still looking at her in astonishment. Faramir turns over onto all fours and Lothiriel falls to the ground beside him, sobbing.

The crowd is silent and the air is stiff. My legs finally find the strength to move and I walk slowly to my brother, still sitting on the ground. When I touch the back of his head, he looks up at me. His eyes are soft, worried. I smile at him, trying to reassure my big oaf, as I have done for so long. With a squeeze of my hand, he picks himself up, seeming to have remembered his office. He takes a deep breath and straightens his shoulders, brushing the hair from his face. He gives me a quick kiss on my forehead before lowering his arm to Faramir. The prince had sat up by now, holding his little cousin as her tears dried. At the sight of the king's offer, he smiles and takes my brother's forearm. Eomer pulls both family members to their feet, clasping Faramir's shoulder with his other hand. The crowd applauded in relief as the two great leaders embraced. Lothiriel seemed to have recovered herself and wiped her cheeks clean.

'Who could have guessed? This Rohirric stallion has bested me!' Faramir shouts to the masses, his arm slung across Eomer's shoulders. Everyone laughs.

'Perhaps the mares should battle next?' Eomer gestures to Loth and I.

I roll my eyes to thunderous applause, and whooping from the Rohirrim. Lothiriel wraps her arms around my waist, beaming at the onlookers as only a princess can.

'That is quite enough, you two. Come along. You are rank, the both of you.' I smirk and walk back to the horses, arm in arm with Lothiriel.

As we ride back to The City, the only thought in my head is of how pleasing this morning has been.

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A little action for you all! Hope you liked it as much as I.

-Anarwyn


	14. Chapter 14 - Dreaming

Happy 2020! 

Short chapter again, but an important one for Loth. 

Chapter 14 - Dreaming

L

'Sleep well, Father.'

'Sweet dreams, my Swan.'

The hallway to my chamber seems long tonight. My footsteps echo and my candle flickers. I cannot wait another second to reach my bed. I have much to think on.

As always, my blankets are turned down, ready for my slumber. I blow out my light, but my eyes stay wide open.

_Who is this man? _

_A warrior. _

_Yes. Terrifying. _

_Brave. Strong. _

_Perhaps. But ruthless. _

_So is Faramir. _

_Yes. Also terrifying. Not comforting. _

_You know Faramir is a good man. _

_Yes...what is a bad man? _

_A criminal. A thief. A coward. _

_Coward? _

_Yes, coward. _

_Coward...who is a coward? _

_A runner. A shirker of duty. Scared. _

_No, not scared. Father says fear is not a weakness. Is Father a coward? _

_No. Is Father ruthless? _

_No! I think not...or must he be? He is a warrior. _

_Yes. He may be. _

_Only if he needs to be. _

_Yes. _

_Did-did _he _need to be ruthless today? _

_He believed so. _

_Hm. Perhaps…_

_He was impressive. _

_Yes. Not sure I forgive him. _

_For what? He did not slight you. _

_But Faramir. I had to protect him. _

_Faramir was not troubled by the man. Why should you be? _

_I know not. _

_Simmer down, princess. Do not judge a man of whom you know so little. _

_I do not trust him. _

_You do not have to. You do not have to say anything to him ever again, if you so wish. _

_Yes. I so wish. _

_Indeed? _

_I think. _

_Let us rest. Give him a chance. _

_Why do I bother with you? _

_Because I cannot leave you. Give him a chance. _

_Be quiet. _

I see Faramir's face in anguish. _Why do you let him hurt me, Lothiriel? Help me! _I try to run to my cousin, to shield him from the blow, but my feet cannot move! _Lothiriel, please! _I want to tell him I am trying, but my voice is gone. I scream and scream, straining every muscle, but no sound escapes my mouth. I cannot see his attacker, only a large shadow looming over him. Again he cries for help. I hear laughter ringing in my ears, echoing around the library. I somehow know this laughter to belong to King Elessar. He has turned on his faithful prince! _Help!_ The figure above the victim becomes clearer, but it is not whom I expect to see. Father! I want to scream at him to leave Faramir alone, but Faramir is no longer in danger. He sits to my right, reading a scroll. _Faramir?_ He ignores me, though I know he hears me.

_Cousin, it is me!_ He scowls at me, holding a finger to his lips. I spin around, wondering where my father went. A tall figure stands in the corner, his back to me. I race toward him, only to be met with a dress! _Eowyn! Thank goodness! _The figure turns and she is not Eowyn, but my old governess. She smirks at me, telling me I am a dull and uninteresting child. I begin to cry, wailing for my mother. _Lothiriel._ A soft, low voice breaks through my sobbing. I look up to see that I am in a field, surrounded by rolling hills and sweet, green grass. I am lying down in it. I open my eyes.

The room is dark, but for a sliver of moonlight peeking through my window. Bits of the dream race through my mind. My father, Faramir, the governess, the voice. The voice I do not recognize, even awake. A male voice, but who? I sigh, dreading the answer as it forms in my mind.

_Eomer._

_._

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Hmmm...what could this mean? See you soon!

-Anarwyn


	15. Chapter 15 - Traveling

Some new characters to this story appear!

(Another Tolkien-use disclaimer)

Chapter 15 - Traveling

E

I awake suddenly, my head is pounding. The air is quiet. The birds twitter softly. A somber day lies ahead of me. I don my ebony riding dress. I had it made for this day alone. The servants abide my orders, leaving me to dress my own hair. I plait three small sections of hair on both sides of my head. Another two plaits lay on top, in the center of my scalp, running from the front all the way down my back. I twist the two right plaits together, and the two left, braiding the rest of my hair into them. Next I twist the two large sections into each other, forming a knot at the base of my neck. A shieldmaiden's hairstyle from long ago in our history. No other Rohirrim women will attend today. I alone bear my foremothers' traditions to this foreign city. I alone represent my nation's daughters. I will not fail them this day.

My uncle, the last of his line, comes down from the tombs in Rath Dinen on a golden bier. The three kings pass through the City in silence. Those to depart follow the procession through the still-broken gates. The bier is placed upon a great wain. Meriadoc, Esquire of Rohan, accompanies his fallen lord, weeping. The king's banner ripples in the breeze.

An entire host of Men and Elves rides alongside the wain. Never had any king of the Mark such company upon the road as went with Theoden Thengel's son to the land of his home. Our home. My eyes leave my uncle's body for one last look upon the White City. I turn my horse and follow the slow procession to the Great West Road.

After a few days on the road, tensions loosen. Laughter becomes a common occurrence, especially around the Hobbits. Lothiriel had never encountered a halfling, indeed nor had many of the riders there, but she became enamored with their happy ways and gentle hearts. I think she is quite similar to them in spirit. Except perhaps the Ringbearer. He is more subdued that the rest. Often while Loth laughs with the three, he and I sit elsewhere discussing what is to come. Frodo is his name and he dearly loves to learn. I tell him of the history of the Mark and the great stories of my ancestors. I think it distracts him from his pain and loneliness.

Sometimes Faramir joins us. I am so happy to hear his stories. He carries so much knowledge, much more than I could hope to retain. I do not grieve my education, but simply enjoy sharing in his. With him I feel safe, warm, joyful. Completely opposite from how I felt in the presence of the Worm.

Faramir is so generous with his time and talent that I find myself wanting to assist the strangers journeying with us. Every morning I rise early, bringing the night watchmen a hearty meal. Today, the watchmen are King Elessar and the stout hobbit. Sam's eyes droop, his head nodding slightly. When Aragorn hears my footsteps, he stands up. I think I see a touch of apprehension behind his dark beard. He has not shaved since the journey began. I think it is his way of relating to my people. The little hobbit stirs, but falls back asleep almost instantly.

'Good morn, your majesty.' I curtsy while I hold the tray of food.

'I hope you slept well, my lady.' He inclines his head.

'I think better than you,' I look down on Sam, 'though perhaps not as well as our little master here.'

Aragorn smiles, looking more relaxed.

'Sam here is as brave as a great many of our soldiers, but hobbits are not meant for little sleep. Nor little food, so I thank you for your trouble.'

'No trouble, I want to help.'

He takes a pause before answering. 'I understand.'

'Well, do you want to see what I have brought?'

I set bread, cheese, and the sausage I had cooked that morning on the small table near the campfire. Aragorn sits on the cushion next to me, not looking at the food.

'I am afraid I am not the cook your elf queen is, your majesty.'

'Everything smells wonderful, Eowyn.'

'Is there something else you require?'

'I wish to speak with you.'

'That is well, for I am here. And I think no one else wakens at this hour.'

'Yes. Then my question is thus: do you love the Prince of Ithilien?'

This I did not expect! What would make him ask such a thing?

'I plan to marry him, do I not?'

'And yet my question remains.'

I huff in indignation.

'Yes, Aragorn, I love him!'

He looks deep into my eyes. I glare back at the king, daring him to disagree.

The skin around his eyes crinkles.

'Indeed, my lady, you do! I see a fierce love in your heart that will not leave you lightly.'

'What gives you the right to pry anyways?' I still feel a bit grumpy.

'I did not intend to put my nose in an unwelcome arena, but I needed to be absolutely sure that you…'

'That I was not still pining for _you_?' My voice had risen. I can feel my heart thumping in anger at his arrogance.

'I only mean that you do not need to rush into marriage if you do not wish to.'

'Do you still see me so broken? Still pity me as the girl I once was?'

'I...I have not had much opportunity to speak with you, my lady.' His voice softens with each sentence as if to slow my temper.

'Then let me ease your conscience. I know that I had spiraled into melancholy during those dark days. Even after your great victory, I remained unhealed. Yet in the months since, I have been reborn into the light. I have been pulled tooth and nail from my own self pity and childish hurt. And it was not the healer-king who saved me from myself, but his steward. He saw me in anguish, yes, but he offered me peace and stability rather than pity and rejection. You may be of older, higher blood, but that man is of better.'

I look out over the hills, my chest heaving with emotion. The sun begins to peak out from behind us. At last, Aragorn speaks.

'You are mistaken.'

I whip my head around so fast that my hair flies across my back to my shoulder.

'Enlighten me.'

'Blood is not why I spurned you that day. Nor pity.'

'Enlighten more.'

The corners of his mouth twitched, but he continued to look straight at me.

'Eowyn, if I had not rejected your advances, would you have let me go?'

'I did not let you go even then.'

'Perhaps not in your mind, but deep down you knew I was not the one you wanted.'

'You mean to say that you knew I would find Faramir to be a better match?' I can barely keep from rolling my eyes.

'Not Faramir. I confess I never would have put you two together. I knew not what would become of your life, Eowyn. I only knew that I could not be part of it, for your sake and mine.'

'You are happier with your queen.'

'Yes. And even if I had no other woman by my side, still I would not have you.'

'You know just how to make a girl fall in love.' Sarcasm? Now?

'Eowyn, could you really see yourself as Queen of Gondor? Living in a stone palace, surrounded by politics and gossip? You would melt away, a shadow of the woman you once were.'

'And the ladies of court would ask what happened to the sparks of joy and laughter that used to fill the halls in my presence.' I do not know where the vision comes from, but all of a sudden I feel his words to be true.

'You need life, heart, simplicity. You need somewhere to grow things and to heal others. You deserve a man who loves you.'

Again, the king fulfills his duty. He shows me the truth I did not wish to see, healing my heart of many hurts.

'This I have! And he gives me joy.'

Aragorn takes my hand in both of his.

'It heals my heart to see you now in bliss.'

A funny little accent speaks into the dawn.

'Strider? Is that sausage I smell?'

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See you next time!

-Anarwyn


	16. Chapter 16 - Grieving

Luinwen-2013 - Long-needed indeed. I'm glad you can see the "book scenes" and thank you for your sweet reviews!

Lady Istalri - Thank you so much for your kind words, they are very encouraging! Yes, I always thought Aragorn and Eowyn should have a lovely friendship...wait a bit longer and you may see more of them ;)

xXMizz Alec VolturiXx - Thank you for your many reviews. The dream sequence is a little different, but I wanted it to be sort of disorienting (since that's how my dreams are). I personally dislike when characters have dreams that make perfect sense.

Thank you to all of my reviewers and I hope you continue to enjoy the story!

(Same disclaimer as before)

Chapter 16 - Grieving

L

After fifteen days of travel, I am relieved to finally be at our destination. The road has been beautiful, but I long for a nice, indoor place to rest my head tonight. As the Golden Hall comes into sight, Father rides up beside me.

'Not home, but it will do.' He winks at me.

'I think her to be beautiful. If only there was a sea nearby, eh?'

His smile broadens.

'Soon enough, Little Swan, we will return to your brothers. Are you no longer pleased with your decision to come?'

I sigh. 'I am, Father. I know I am here for the Lady Eowyn, not myself.' A small voice in the back of my head disagrees.

'I do hope you will take some time to enjoy yourself. Perhaps not today, however.'

'No, today would not be appropriate.'

'Although, forget not that we are in a foreign land. Funeral rites may differ here.'

'Indeed I believe they will.'

In three days the preparations had been made. The Great King is now to be laid to rest. I stand next to Eowyn, who stands next to her brother by the mouth of the tomb. A chorus of women sing a mournful song in Rohirric. I cannot understand the words, though some sound familiar. The haunting melody moves my heart nonetheless and I find myself teary-eyed. I quickly dab the wetness away, not wanting to look weak in Eowyn's eyes. I shift my gaze upwards to her face. She is singing along softly. Her face is smooth and grave. I am impressed by her composure. I hope to be so brave at the funeral of my father. The song ends as the men close the stone tomb. I almost begin to walk back to the Hall, but I realize that only the blonde men are moving about. Is there to be more?

The women and the Company from Gondor remain close to the tomb. After a few minutes, I hear dozens of hooves galloping back in our direction. I want to move out of their way, but Eowyn stands perfectly still. I take a deep breath and resolve to plant my feet. Her face is still subdued, but now she looks expectantly down the hill. I turn in the same direction, and just as I do, Eomer appears at the bottom, followed by many of his men. The Riders all sit upon white horses, carrying the King's banner, and as they begin to circle the barrow they start another slow song. I again do not understand the words, but I think this one to be very different from what the women sang. As the men continue to ride and sing, the people of the Mark smile and I see a spark in their eyes. Obviously the song brings them joy and pride in their king. Eowyn, too, is smiling softly. She doesn't watch the riders, nor does she look toward Faramir standing across the way, but always her eyes are fixed on the King's mound. I do not mean to stare, but her countenance mesmerizes me and I feel that to look away would be rude. As the song comes to a conclusion, a tear rolls down her cheek.

Merry, the hobbit I had grown most fond of, walks closer to the mound, touching the highest point he can reach. His face is red from weeping, but he stands tall.

'Theoden King, Theoden King! Farewell! As a father you were to me, for a little while. Farewell!'

The small, but strong, voice wakes me from my stupor. I blink several times, willing the tears to leave my eyes. I must be strong for Eowyn. I take her hand and squeeze. She looks down at me and smiles again.

'Thank you, my friend. Come, let the feast begin. Theoden King will now find his rest among the mighty company of our forefathers.'

I can only smile and nod. She touches the grave, then takes me down the road and back into Edoras.

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Finally out of Minas Tirith and into Edoras! Alas, only for a few chapters.

-Anarwyn


	17. Chapter 17 - Announcing

Thank you, dear reviewers. I hope you all find this chapter enlightening and entertaining.

(Tolkien disclaimer)

Chapter 17 - Announcing

E

While everyone returns to the Golden Hall to prepare for the feast, I slip quietly away to my rooms. The dress I'm looking for is already laid out. I sit beside it on my bed, dropping my face into my hands.

_Come on, now is the time for rejoicing. _

_Then why do I feel so sorrowful? _

_You feel sorry for yourself. _

_Yes. I miss him. _

_He lived a long life and died a hero! _

_I wish I had longer with-_

An intruder interrupts my thoughts! The door behind me creaks open and I quickly stand to face him. _Faramir._

'Hello, Eowyn. How are you?'

'Fine.' I don't even convince myself.

'Would you like to talk?'

I sigh.

'No.' The truth.

'Sit?'

I look back to the bed and rest upon it again. He doesn't move, so I motion for him to join me. He complies, taking a look around the room.

I stare at the floor, unsure of what to do. Faramir simply waits.

Eventually I look at his face. He meets my gaze and rests his hand atop mine on my lap.

'He is gone?' I need him to confirm.

Faramir nods.

I drop my head into his chest. His free arm cradles my head, telling me to stay as long as I like. I finally succumb to the tears.

After several minutes, I raise my head slightly. He inclines his head to look into my swollen eyes. Pushes a hair from my face.

I straighten up fully, ready to face the world again.

'Thank you for being here.' My voice whispers from lack of use.

'Always.' He touches my nose with his finger. I shake my head slightly, almost smiling.

Without thinking, I lean in to kiss him. He does not hesitate, caressing my face in his warm hands.

When we finally pull apart, the joy has returned to my heart. I stand and pull him up by his hands.

'Back to the feast?' He makes to leave.

'Not yet! Do you think I will wear this to celebrate?' I gesture to my garb.

'I suppose not?' He seems confused.

'Men. Come, help me dress.'

His eyebrow raises, but a smirk spreads across his mouth.

'As you wish, my lady.'

'Oh relax, Lothiriel, it is just an over-dress!' I whisper through my teeth at her, not wanting to draw the attention of the servants. Loth had come looking for me and saw Faramir leaving my room.

'Still, I cannot believe he agreed.'

'Perhaps I am turning him away from his stuffy Gondorian ways.'

Loth clicks her tongue at me, clearly still a tad flummoxed.

'You will understand soon enough.'

'On the contrary, I think now that I ought not trust your brother- this Man of Rohan.'

'Perhaps you are too proper. Or too young.' My tone is icy after her jab.

'Eowyn!' Her voice rises above a whisper.

'Hush now, Loth. Let us return to the feast.'

'Well I am telling father that _I_ helped you dress!'

I only smirk at her as we leave the room. I care not what that Prince of Dol Amroth thinks. We are in _my _land now.

The minstrels have already begun the tales of the Kings of Old. As I enter the Hall, the head servant brings me a filled cup. At the listing of Eorl the Young, I bring the cup to Eomer, careful not to spill it on my shimmering white and gold gown. He takes the cup from me, winks, and then stands as tall as any of the kings now being listed. As the loremaster counts Thengel's son Theoden, Eomer drains the cup.

'Hail the victorious dead!'

The crowd roars in praise of the latest king.

'Fill the cups of all, our people thirst for a new Lord!' I cannot help the giddy feeling that leaped into my heart at the sound of our kin.

The servants gladly run around to give every person a share of the Victory Ale.

I pick Faramir out of the crowd and beam at him. He raises his cup in response, hiding his enormous grin.

When the last cup had been filled, Gandalf bowed low before Eomer, at the same time raising his cup with both hands.

'Hail, Eomer, King of the Mark!'

Everyone responded in unison.

'Hail, Eomer, King of the Mark!'

After the food had been eaten and most of the ale drunk, Eomer stood from our table and walked back to the front of the Hall.

I lean over to Faramir beside me. 'I guess that he will give a parting speech.' He nods.

'Now this is the funeral feast of Theoden the King; but I will speak ere we go of tidings of joy, for he would not grudge that I should do so, since he was ever a father to Eowyn my sister.'

My eyes widen in surprise. Faramir looks at me curiously. What in the Mark is happening?

'Hear then all my guests, fair folk of many realms, such as have never before been gathered in this Hall!'

Yes, dear brother, there are _so many people here_. He isn't even looking at me!

'Faramir, Steward of Gondor, and Prince of Ithilien,' Now Faramir looks shocked, 'asks that Eowyn, Lady of Rohan, should be his wife, and she grants it fulwilling. Therefore they shall be trothplighted before you all.'

I gasp, but joyfully. I cannot _believe_ Eomer did this, but I understand exactly why he did. Uncle would be so very happy for me. For us. I turn to look at Faramir's knowing smile. But lo! It is no smile I see, but a look of shock and almost horror. I throw my head back in laughter, pulling him up to the front by Eomer.

We stand together, hand in hand, before my people and our friends. The cups raise again to our engagement and are drained merrily. Faramir is now beaming and relaxing into the spotlight as Eomer continues.

'Thus is the friendship of the Mark and Gondor bound with a new bond, and the more do I rejoice.'

The King Elessar stands proudly from his table.

'Gondor is well pleased, having now received She who is Fairest and Bravest in the realm!'

I look into his eyes, remembering our last conversation.

'Wish me joy, my liege-lord and healer!'

'I have wished thee joy ever since first I saw thee.'

As we return to our table, Lothiriel hugs us both.

'Now we can begin the wedding planning!'

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Surprise for them! Not so much for us ;)

-Anarwyn


	18. Chapter 18 - Stumbling

To my reviewers - thank you! 

Lady Istalri - Me too ;) Feeling like I should write one just for them sometime...

_"Fletrest gerum"_ \- roughly translates to "couch room"

Okay, enough house keeping. On with the story!

Chapter 18 - Stumbling

L

Rohan knows how to throw a feast, no doubt! So many intricate horse motifs are laid into the wood of the Golden Hall that I feel almost as if I have stepped into another world. The gold and green hues (and maybe some of the ale) make this place seem like a fairy-land. The Fairy King looks particularly regal tonight.

_Oh you mustn't think these things Lothiriel! His uncle has just been laid to rest and do you forget your lack of forgiveness toward him? _

_Right...why was that? _

_I think the alcohol has dulled your mind! _

_That is possible and not at all very unlikely. _

_Lothiriel watch where-!_

I lose my footing on a loose stone and topple over. Luckily, a man is there to break my fall.

'Easy there, Princess.'

I close my eyes and bite my lip in recognition of the voice. _Of course_. He stands me upright.

'Every apology, my lord.' I don't look at him, preferring to straighten my skirts.

'No need, my lady. How can I complain when a beautiful woman falls right into my lap?'

'I was looking for a place to rest a while.' I cannot think of much besides sitting back down. And I do not wish to banter with _him_ right now.

'Allow me to escort you, then.' He holds out an arm, which I grab hold of quickly.

The Rohirrim around us holler farewells to their new king and he waves back to them. We walk in silence out of the banquet hall, down a few stairs, and into what looks like a room made for lounging. Many couches, large pillows, and hanging cloths litter the area underneath an open roof. The space is lit only by the moon and stars above.

'Which one strikes your fancy?' His voice pulls me out of my musings.

'What is this place?' I can hear the awe in my voice.

'_Fletrest gerum_. My great-grandfather, Fengel, had it added to the Hall. His wife suffered from an illness which confined her to bed. As I have heard it, she would be brought here to see the sky and feel the warm sun and smell the grass and horses.'

'How lovely. I do believe this is my favorite room of all the rooms I have ever seen.'

'You may visit anytime you like, Princess.' I hear a smile in his voice.

'Please, make yourself at home in whichever you would prefer.'

I finally look at him.

'Thank you, your majesty.'

His eyebrows jump together, almost looking hurt. I cannot fathom what is the matter, so I pick a couch close to the middle of the room. Colors are difficult to see in this light, but I think it to be a dark blue fabric with silver pillows and a great white fur over the back. I sink into the plush cushions easily.

'The colors of my home.'

Eomer sits opposite me on a hanging cloth. I absentmindedly untie the laces of my shoes.

'Do you miss your home? You have not seen it for some time now.'

I lift my bare feet onto the couch, covering them with the end of my dress. The King seemingly takes no notice.

'I do. But I am glad to see other lands. Until now I had not traveled anywhere but to Minas Tirith.'

'And what do you think of the Riddermark?'

'I think it much better than the cold stone of Minas Tirith.'

'Then we are agreed.' His voice is low and he has yet to relax.

'The landscape here is breathtaking. The mountains are so dramatic and the earth so green. I do only wish that I had a view of the sea.'

'Alas, I cannot give you that.'

If I had been more aware, I would have heard the guilt in his voice. And the undue disappointment in my own.

'That _is_ unfortunate.'

He does not answer. I lie back, untroubled, looking at the stars.

'How does it feel to be King of your realm?' I don't know why the question formed in my mind, but I was not enjoying the silence.

He pauses before answering.

'It feels right, yet somehow unearned. I was never supposed to be king. My cousin, Theodred, should have had this task. Yet now that it falls to me…' I hear him sigh.

'Now it no longer matters what should have happened, right?'

'I suppose, yes.'

Another silence. Think of something!

'And now you have need of a queen.' I mean it matter-of-factly. A bachelor king is not good for long. His people will want an heir soon.

'Have I?'

'Soon. The people would prefer it so.'

'A princess, perhaps?'

'Perhaps, if the alliance will be suitable.' I raise my arm behind my head, getting more comfortable. This political talk makes my eyelids heavy.

'But of course. And am I allowed to love my queen?'

'Certainly! A love-match is preferred, particularly since you need heirs.' I cover my mouth to yawn.

'You seem to have given this a fair bit of thought.'

'Well you and I do have a similar duty.' Us royals must think of these things! I close my eyes and smile. This couch is extremely comfortable.

'Duty. Yes, well I think I have more _duty_ calling me at the moment.' He stands up. I turn my head to his movement, but my eyes remain closed.

'I should think a king would.'

'You may stay here as long as you like.' There is a difference in his tone. I hear his footsteps leaving.

'Eomer King!' The footsteps halt.

'Yes?'

'You put on a wonderful party.'

The footsteps shift. A moment of silence. Then they leave again without a word. I attempt to open my eyes again, but they do not obey. I think faintly about my bed at home.

I wake up in an unfamiliar room. The sun fills my face with light and warmth. I try to block it out and discover that my neck is sore. I sit up, remembering the events that led me here.

_What did Eomer call this room? _Fergith, Fletwith?

_Eomer. We had a lovely chat last night. I spoke of Dol Amroth, he told me about his grandmother or great-grandmother. I believe we talked of royal duties. I was so sleepy. I do hope I didn't say anything untoward. Did I talk about babies?_

I hear a ruckus in the hall. I put my shoes back on, stretch, and then walk to the open doorway. I cannot see anything here. I want to poke around to find what made the noise, but I do _not_ wish to be seen in my evening clothes!

_I will walk to my room as quickly and quietly as possible...but where is it? _

I tentatively start down the corridor to the left. I think the Banquet Hall is that way.

Luckily, I manage to find the hallway to my room without a soul finding me. I breathe a sigh of relief and walk more confidently.

Until I hear a door open and a voice calling my name.

'Loth! Where have you been?'

'Good morn, Eowyn.' I try to sound bright and happy.

'Good morn? You had me worried. And still in your evening dress!' Her eyes suddenly narrow, looking me over. Her hands are resting on her narrow hips.

'Lothiriel…' The corners of her mouth turn upwards slowly.

I twist my hands together, feeling exactly how I did that day I was caught with the boy at the beach.

'Where have you been, Loth?' Eowyn is now grinning completely.

'I-I have been sleeping.'

She continued to grin expectantly.

'Of course. Have you been sleeping...indoors?' It looks impossible for her to keep a straight face.

'Yes. Why would I sleep out of doors?'

'No good reason I can think of.' She still has that stupid grin.

'Just tell me where you've been, Loth. I won't make a fuss.'

'There is no fuss to be made.' I am starting to get flustered.

'I simply slept in a different room is all.'

Eowyn folds her arms, still smirking.

'Which room, Loth?'

'I cannot remember the name. Eomer said-.' Eowyn's hands move back to her hips in a flash.

'Out with the king all night, eh?' She looks fit to burst with laughter.

'No! Not _all_ night.' I really am only making it worse for me. I rush the story out.

'I needed to rest and he took me to a very nice room with all these couches and no roof and he _left me there_. _Alone_.' I want to be very clear.

'_Fletrest gerum_?' She seems surprised.

'Yes. It was a lovely room, though the sun woke me much too early.'

Eowyn nods, looking lost in thought.

'Well, you are here now. Let us get you dressed. The Riders are to set out soon.'

'The Riders?'

'Yes child, the King Elessar, his party, and his kin are to set out this morn.'

Yes, now I remember. Father and I are to stay here with Faramir and the Queen Arwen while many of the rest go to their homes.

'I am going to miss our hobbits, Lamb.'

We walk into my chamber.

'So will I. Meduseld will feel quite empty after so many being here. Truthfully, I rather look forward to it.'

'Why is that?' I begin to undo my laces again.

'I am not much for large crowds. I prefer peace and the company of few. My favorite few.' She winks at me. 'Except perhaps the Elf. I know not what to make of her yet.'

I'm not really listening. She is like the older sister I always wanted.

'How lucky I have been to come into this friendship, Lamb.'

'Luck has little to do with it!' She giggles and gives me a quick hug.

'Now, let us get you into some clean clothes!'

Gandalf, King Elessar, the Captains of Gondor, Lady Galadriel, Lord Celeborn, the rest of the elves, Legolas, Gimli, and the four hobbits all saddle up for the next leg of their journey. Queen Arwen and the Lord Elrond have been walking alone together for a long time. The horses stamp their feet in impatience, while many of their riders seem barely awake. The hobbits babble easily on their little ponies, saying many farewells to their fast-made friends of the Mark.

I stand back, away from the leaving party, with my father. My eyes are puffy from lack of sleep, and my stomach rumbles from lack of food. Arwen and her father reappear from the woods. The queen walks with Elrond to the group of horsemen. Her love bends down from his steed to kiss her. I look away and find Eomer standing nearby atop a hill. He is robed in heavy fabrics of a deep emerald green and lined with white horse hair. A golden crown lays on his head and a white horn hangs at his side. I want to catch his eye, but he will not look in my direction. He is focused on the Company. I turn back to realize that they are close to parting. King Elessar hoists his sword in the air, pointing to the North. Horns sound from the group as the riders begin the journey. I hear another horn, louder and deeper than the others. As Eomer blows, my heart fills with emotion. A bitter-sweet feeling mixes with my confusion. Did he choose to not see me?

After the travelers leave our sights, we all meet again in the Hall, for by now it is nearly lunchtime. I sit at a table with Father, Faramir, and Eowyn. My cousin is already in deep conversation with his uncle about the state of home and when to return. I only hear bits and pieces, waiting for _him_ to return. At last the doors open again and the king strides through the room. I shift slightly to make a space for him to join us. He stops at our table.

'Princes, Sister, how fare you?' He grasps the shoulder of Faramir.

Eowyn twists in her seat to wrap an arm around her brother's waist. Faramir puts a hand to Eomer's arm and Father replies with assent. I look up expectantly at the face of the king, but he does not turn.

'Excellent. I hope the food serves you all well.'

'Will you not join us, soon-to-be brother?'

Please do.

'Nay, kin, I have other business to which I must attend- since I have not a _queen_ to do things for me. Good day!'

Was it just me or did he emphasize the word "queen?" Was this somehow directed at me? And why did he ignore me like that?

As he left the Hall, Faramir and Father returned to their discussion. But Eowyn looked at me quizzically. She keeps her voice low.

'Is there something you need to tell me about last night?'

I lean in closer to her. What do I say? Feign ignorance.

'Whatever do you mean?' Coward.

'He completely ignored your presence! Did you turn him away?'

'No, certainly not. At least, I think not.' I bite my lip. What _did_ I say?

'Well something has happened. And what was that about a queen?'

A memory sparked.

'Oh, I may have said something about his duty to have an heir.'

Eowyn almost choked on her laughter.

'My my, and I thought _I_ was straightforward.'

'Not like that! I think. Oh no, what if-?' I lift a hand to my mouth in awe of what I might have said.

'Worry not, he is likely playing the game with you. Eomer likes a forward woman.'

But a forward woman I am not!

I say nothing else as I eat my portion. Is it a game he wants?

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Stumbling indeed! Lothiriel seems to have gotten herself in some trouble...

Sorry for the cliff hanger, but more is coming soon ;)

-Anarwyn


	19. Chapter 19 - Envisioning

xXMizz Alec VolturiXx - Me too! I wish I had one of my own. (side note: my brother's name is Alec!)

Luinwen-2013 - Absolutely! Darn feet ;) 

sploosh93 - Thank you! I actually loved writing it. Drunk Loth is almost too fun. 

Alas, you all must wait for another chapter before we see Lothiriel again. For now, we return to the shieldmaiden...

Chapter 19 - Envisioning

E

'Queen Arwen, what a pleasure to finally speak with you at length.'

'Indeed, I have long wished to walk a ways with the slayer of the Witch-king.'

Her voice is like a flute. Every word somehow sounds lyrical.

'Then I regret to inform you that you are missing half of the duo, your majesty.'

'Meriadoc, you mean? Oh I must say, I do adore him. But he was quite adamant that _you_ were the force with which to be reckoned, my lady.'

That humble hobbit.

'He is unaware of his own strength, I think.'

'Yes, most good people are.'

I don't know what to say to that. Her elven beauty is striking and ethereal. I can't believe it. I'm intimidated.

'Your Hall here is marvelous.' She smiles warmly, but I am still somehow unsettled.

'You surely are used to more magnificent architecture.'

'Perhaps so. But there is much to be said for the structure of Men. I find your builds to feel more homely. I suppose that is my great-great grandfather talking.'

'Forgive me, I am unfamiliar with Elven heritage.'

'You know naught of the Lay of Leithian? Beren and Luthien? The greatest love story of all the ages of the world?'

'Is this all the same story?' Elves! Why would _I _know of _her_ ancestors?

She smiles more broadly.

'I shall tell you. But be forewarned, the story is long.'

'Perhaps we could pass over the details.' A family history is _all_ I need. 'Who was your great-great grandfather?'

'Beren. He was a mortal Man in love with an Elvish Princess, Luthien.'

'Your twice-great grandmother?'

'Yes.'

'So you have the blood of Men in you?'

'Yes, distantly.'

Is she jesting me?

'I do not see a resemblance between you and any mortal woman I have ever seen.'

'That would be unlikely. My father chose to be of the Elven race.'

'Chose?'

'Yes. Another long story.'

I am starting to become very interested in this story, but alas, another time.

'And now you are married to a Man…'

'Yes!'

'Were there no Elves to match your fancy?' I smirk at the ground.

The Elven Queen laughs-at my wit or my nerve, I am unsure. But the sound inexplicably gives me hope and makes my heart light. I smile back.

'None at all! I must see muscles, beard, and a certain lack of grace as endearing!'

'I know precisely what you mean!'

We laugh together. I suppose women are women, no matter our race.

She speaks again as we round a corner.

'Speaking of mortal husbands, how do you and your betrothed fair?'

'Oh, wonderfully.' I didn't mean to sound so uninterested.

Of course, she doesn't miss a beat.

'Are you quite sure?'

'I...sometimes I wonder-.'

'If you are running before you walk?'

Exactly!

'How did you know?'

'I confess I have the gift of foresight, Lady Eowyn.'

'Oh! Then...am I?'

She cocks her head to the left, light grey eyes looking deep into mine. I am strongly reminded of Aragorn. And strangely, Faramir. Eventually, she blinks and smiles kindly.

'I think not.'

'How do you know?' Why am I so desperate for her advice?

'I see you.'

'In the future? Please, tell me.' What new magic is this?

'I saw fields of green, large gardens full of beautiful flowers, and tall trees in the distance.'

Ithilien, I imagine.

'I looked to my right and saw a beautiful wedding ceremony.'

'Really?'

'Yes, and you standing next to Faramir.'

I should hope so.

'Yes, when we wed.'

'Not so.' She looks serious.

I raise my eyebrows to ask the question.

'This is the rite of your son, Eowyn.'

I gasp lightly, my mind racing. A son? And married! A son…the next Prince of Ithilien.

I breathe out slowly, not realizing I had been holding my breath.

'Are you glad?'

My turn to laugh.

'Queen Arwen, I have never been so thankful for the magic of Elves in my life.'

'I am delighted to be of assistance, Lady Eowyn. I have only seen the one vision, but I feel merry when I think of you and the Lord Faramir.'

'So do I.' I grin at her. I think I rather like this Elf Queen.

And yet…

'Your majesty-.'

'I think, my lady, that "Arwen" shall suffice between us.'

I nod, not fully listening.

'Arwen, I do not wish to see everything the future holds, for I think that an unhealthy habit. Be that as it may, I do have one more question that I hope you can answer me.'

'That will depend upon your query.'

The words tumble out of my mouth.

'Have I only the one son? Do I have no daughters?'

She looks me deep in the eyes again, a very slight crease between her sleek brows, before answering.

'Alas, my friend, I see naught! Only the one vision am I allowed, by the grace of the Valar.'

My head falls. We have reached the huge doors of Meduseld.

'Perhaps it is for the best.'

'I think it must be.' She turns gracefully to face me.

'Know this: if ever I see a daughter of yours, I will write to you.'

'Thank you, Arwen.'

She smiles, pats my hand, and glides away towards the forest. I have seen her walk there often. I think it must remind her of home.

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So, one more chapter to go...I am sad to let go of this story, but so excited to have shared it with you all. Final chapter coming very soon. 

-Anarwyn


	20. Chapter 20 - Discovering

Lady Istalri - Wow! I am so glad you enjoy the story so much! Perhaps I will write more for these characters one day...

Luinwen-2013 - I think she does :)

Thank you, all reviewers. Well, here it is: the last chapter. I won't say anything more until the end. Enjoy!

Chapter 20 - Discovering

L

After a full day of thinking about him, my stomach turning every which way and my mind turning even more, I have decided to somehow corner this man. I cannot live here as an unwelcome guest. I need to find out what I did wrong and set it straight. _Unless you did nothing wrong. Maybe he just doesn't want you anymore. _

I push the ugly thoughts from my head.

_Tonight. After supper. I know not how, but I will find a way to be alone with him. _

_Maybe I should drink again._

_Because it worked out so well last time? _

_Right. I will just have to pluck up the courage, then. _

_He would appreciate that. _

The King dines with his captains tonight. Everyone must presume that the men are discussing defense strategies or how things ought to be done in this new regime. I, however, rather think the King wishes to sit as far from me as possible. Unfortunately for him, he won't get away so easily. I make sure to sit next to my cousin, facing his table, where I am able to keep an eye on him at all times. As soon as he rises, I intend to excuse myself for some fresh air. All I can do is hope that he needs a breather, too.

I barely eat my food, as I have done all day. I make sure to laugh and talk as much as I can to distract from the misery that would otherwise surely be evident on my face. Father and Eowyn have bought my play, but Faramir has been curiously watchful of me. I wonder if Eowyn told him about last night. If I was quiet for a little too long, or if I missed laughing at a joke, his grey eyes found my honey-brown ones. I would smile back reassuringly, but I always got the impression that he did not believe me. Yet every time, he says nothing.

I begin to think Eomer will never leave his comrades, when he suddenly stands and walks to his throne. What is he doing? This is not part of the plan!

'My lords and ladies, please continue to eat and drink. I myself will retire for a while. If anyone should need me- do not bother!' The room chuckles in appreciation and understanding.

_Great. He is going off on his own to be sure, but if I leave now I will look very suspicious indeed. What to do?! _

I watch him carefully, trying to guess where he might be headed.

'Try the back garden.' A whisper from beside me.

I look back at Faramir, wonder in my mind.

'Trust me.'

I nod, taking his fingers in gratitude, and excuse myself for the latrine.

I head in the right direction, but instead of making my last turn, I walk straight out the doors. Just as Faramir said, the King was walking around the garden perimeter. At first I do not want to disturb his thoughts. My heart is thumping however, and I tell myself that I must have courage.

'My Lord Eomer.' He stops in his tracks, slowly turning back to face me.

'Princess.' His eyes are cold. I try not to recoil, but shuffle closer to him.

I take a deep breath through my nose.

'Have I wronged you?'

He leans against the wall, rubbing his temples with one hand.

'I do not need this, Lothiriel.'

My chin lifts in indignation.

'But I do. I wish to know what offense I have committed and how I might remedy it.'

'Why do you care?'

'I do not-do not like to see you hurt.' I had not meant to be so direct.

His hand drops and he crosses his arms.

'You should have left with the other powerful men. Perhaps they are in better spirits.'

I simply stare at him, my mouth slightly agape. He turns his head to look at the setting sun.

'You know, that blonde elf is a prince. Perhaps he will become a king, too. I know not their ways in that matter.'

My mind is racing. Is he insinuating that I want-?

'Nor do I...my lord, are you under the impression that I am, er, only interested in your...power?'

He snorts, still staring into the colorful sky.

'I am a princess, how could you think power impresses me?'

'You seemed quite interested in such last night, asking me about my realm and talking of my duty as king. And do not think I have forgotten your cold shoulder to me all the journey here. Yet now that I have been proclaimed king, you suddenly seek my company. You no longer "wish to see me hurt.'''

'I never wanted to see you hurt! I was intimidated by you, that is all. A great warrior, not to mention king, like you would intimidate anyone.'

'I feel far from a great warrior tonight. I am tired, like an old warhorse who has seen too much evil.'

It worries me to see him so...distraught. Could this be the same man who bested my cousin just a few weeks ago?

'Tired? Old? Sir, you are brave, strong, courteous. You are a hero, a leader of men: not because you were born to it, but because you have earned their respect. Earned _my _respect.'

He looks back at me. Is that a smirk? Or a frown?

'Then I have seen this before, too. You admire a man of prestige, that is all. Everyone falls prey to it sometime. Even my strong-headed sister would not listen to me. _She_ did not know what love is, and neither do _you_.'

Love? Who said anything about love? By now my face is heated. He is treating me like a child. I will not stand for it. What does he know about how I feel?

'And you? Do you know what love means, Eomer King?' I can tell that my temper is rising, my voice is almost shaking.

'I know not.' He almost spat the words.

Infuriating! And yet, despite my pride, my heart breaks to hear him say it.

'Then you do not love me.'

'Lothiriel.' His voice softens, like in my dream so long ago.

'If you do not love me, why do you torture me?'

'It is not as you say.'

'I cannot believe this.'

'Believe what?'

'You, a coward.'

'What did you call me?' He stands at his full height, blue eyes flashing in anger. But I stand my ground. The more I think about it, the more it makes sense.

'Yes! And I shall say it again, if need be. You are afraid of what love is! You do not understand it, so you run from it!'

'Princess, I-' But a fire has grown in my body, a rage I have never experienced before.

'This! This is the difference between our people! _You _may be expert horsemen and brave in the face of battle, but in your hearts you are weak, shallow, defensive!'

I might have expected him to shake me, to throw me to the ground in a fit of rage.

No such actions followed my outburst. The man before me squatted in the grass, his face buried in his huge hands. My rage turns to concern in an instant.

'What can I do?' The muffled question barely reaches my ears.

'Eomer?'

He lifts his head. His eyes are watery, but his face is dry.

'You know, I hardly knew my parents.'

I lower myself beside him. I want to comfort him, but I am afraid to touch him.

He takes a deep breath and releases it.

'They say my father had a temper. I have fleeting memories of him shouting when he was home.' He smiles a little. 'But not all the memories are bad.'

I wait in silence, unsure of what to do.

'My mother, though. I remember her better. She would read to me, and Wyn. We cooked together, sang together, missed Father together.'

I smile back, knowing what he meant.

'I can see them both so clearly in my mind. But never really saw _them _together. Or perhaps I was just unaware. I knew they loved each other, but I missed the subtleties. They left me too soon. Left us.' His head falls into his hands again, sitting fully on the ground now.

This time, I rest a hand on his shoulder. He turns to me. His light eyes are rimmed with red.

'I am sorry. I have placed my own shortcomings upon you.'

I shake my head, still searching for the right words.

'I lost my mother, too.'

Our eyes meet. No more words are necessary. We embrace each other tightly, as though in our suffering, we become one. His fingernails dig into the back of my dress. I bury my wet face in his hair. The world freezes, the sun falls behind the hills.

All is black, and nothing remains but his body pressed against mine.

When we return to the Hall, most people have left. Servants have begun clearing away the empty tankards. A few men are asleep at the tables. Queen Arwen is surrounded by curious women of Rohan in a corner. I am sure Eowyn and Faramir are elsewhere, perhaps walking in the light of the full moon.

Eomer offers me a seat. I take it as he sits opposite me. We don't speak. He reaches his hand out and I reciprocate. I long to hold him again. His thumb glides back and forth against the back of my hand.

After several minutes, he squeezes my fingers and asks me if I am ready to retire to my room. I nod, suddenly feeling quite exhausted. My cheeks ache from grinning. He smiles softly, helps me out of my chair, and walks me to my door.

'I wish you could stay with me.' The whisper escapes my lips before I know what I am saying.

Eomer only chuckles, kissing my knuckles in response.

'I love you, Lothiriel of Dol Amroth.'

I close my eyes, barely able to believe my ears.

'I love _you_, Eomer, son of Eomund.'

He bows low, kissing my hand again, before he walks back down the hall. I watch him go. I sigh, missing him already. And yet, hope has arisen in my heart. A light is shining now in the midst of this dark corridor. I find that I am swimming in happy memories as I enter my bed chamber. I sit down, remove my shoes, and lie back on the pillows. The memory of seeing our hands intertwined appears behind my eyelids. His beautiful, blue eyes pierce me again. My lips stretch as I take a deep breath.

Suddenly, I find myself no longer in need of sleep.

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I want to thank all of you, readers. Without you, this story would never have left my head. A special thanks to my consistent reviewers, you all were quite encouraging and helpful. I will miss this story and these characters very much. Although maybe I will write an epilogue or something, if anyone wants that.

As always, leave me a review or private message me, if you'd like. Maybe tell me which chapter was your favorite!

Love always,

-Anarwyn


	21. Epilogue - Being

A few of you asked for it, so here it is! Since I had to write it on the fly, it took me a bit longer. I hope it doesn't feel out of place.

I will have a tiny "dictionary" at the end, so don't worry as you read.

Enjoy the epilogue!

Epilogue - Being

'Mama!'

Tiny feet slap against the wooden floor.

She turns around, belly large, to scoop the child into her embrace.

'Did you have a marvelous time with Papa?'

'Oh yes, we played all day long. And we saw animals, Mama! We saw rabbits and deers and squirrels and birds, lots of birds, and they were singin'!'

'And did you bring any home?' Her eyes move to me as I hold up supper for her to see. She winks.

'Yes, Papa got a big one, Mama, huge!' Little arms are thrown into the air to measure.

'I see! Your papa is very good, isn't he.'

'Yes and I helped him, Mama.'

'Of course you did, and I am so proud of you, my little foal. Go wash now.' She returns the child to the ground and walks closer to me. I rest the carcass on the table and dust off my hands.

'How are you, darling?'

'I am well, Faramir. _We_ are.' She rests a hand on her protruding middle.

'I am happy to hear it.' I kiss her soft mouth and stroke her cheek. Her blonde hair is braided down her back, looking like one long rope. She looks so different from when I first saw her but no less beautiful. I was about to tell her, but she spoke first.

'Did Lauturë behave herself?'

'She was very curious and not so stealthy.' I chuckle, remembering my daughter crying out in surprise when she caught sight of the first squirrel.

'I am afraid she inherited that trait from me.' Eowyn sits down in the nearest chair. She must be tired.

'Has the babe been giving you any troubles?' I sit opposite her.

'A few kicks here and there. This one feels heavier than Lauturë did.'

'You must be exhausted.'

'I am perfectly able to manage, Faramir.'

I smile at the memory of multiple rows we had during her first pregnancy. I always wanted to help; she always wanted to be independent.

'I know, dear. I haven't forgotten.'

She smiles back at me, playfully.

'Mama? I am back!'

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'Come on, now. Sing it to me again.'

He sighs heavily.

'_Eorl the Young was the son of Leod,_

_Then came Brego the Builder,_

_Whose son Aldor was quite old._

_Then comes Frea, Freawine, and Goldwine, _

_Deor, Gram, and Helm Hammerhand. _

_Frealaf was the son of Hilde, _

_Then came Brytta Leofa, _

_Whose son Walda was quite strong. _

_Then comes Folca, Folcwine, Fengel,_

_Thengel, and Theoden Ednew.' _

'See, now you got it.'

'I do not hear Elfwine having to recount the Kings of Old.'

'Oh my son, you should have seen the dozens of times I had him recite it for me. You were only a babe when he was your age. All of your siblings have had to memorize the song.'

'Then why have I not heard them singing it?'

'We only sing it on very special occasions, Eobrim.'

'Oh.'

'You will understand as you grow older.'

At that moment, two girls burst into the room.

'_Faeder_! Please don't give us away!' My eldest daughter whispers as she runs past.

I lay my head in my right hand, trying not to smirk.

'Mierwyn, Blismead, where are you-' But they had already scrambled out the room.

Eobrim gives me a look of concern. I chuckle and clap him on the shoulder as a tall, dark-haired boy runs through the open doorway.

Upon seeing the occupants of the room, he slows to a stride.

'Hello, _Faeder_.'

'What brings you here, Elfwine?' I try to look mildly concerned.

'Nothing, I-' The almost-man looks to his younger brother- who is gesturing with his head.

'They came through here, did they not?'

'Who?' Again I try to play, but I know I have been found out.

Elfwine smirks, nods to Eobrim in appreciation, and bows his head to me before rushing after the girls. I turn back to my youngest.

'How could you?'

Eobrim looks almost giddy.

'We men must stick together, _Faeder_.'

'Indeed we must, young man. Else the women will take over!'

As though on cue, a beautiful woman with big, black ringlets enters the room.

'Now, would that be so bad?'

'Your majesty.' I stand and bow to my queen.

'Quite right. And you would do well to remember it.' She has the most dazzling smile.

'_Modor_, the girls are hiding from Elfwine!'

'Not for long. I am afraid I accidentally revealed their hiding place.'

I slap a hand to my heart in shock.

'Ah! Alas, you were correct, my lad. See how the woman turns on her own kind!'

Eobrim laughs merrily and Loth shoots me daggers. I raise my hands in surrender to indicate my jest.

A cry of victory rings from outside and Lothiriel groans.

As she walks out to meet her fate, I sigh and wonder to myself: _how did I get so lucky?_

_._

_._

_._

_Quenya: _

**Lauturë** (Golden strength), **Elboron** (Lasting star)

_Rohirric (Old English): _

**Elfwine** (Elf-friend), **Mierwyn** (Female-horse maiden), **Blismead** (Joyful meadow), **Eobrim** (Water-horse)

**Faeder** (Father), **Modor** (Mother)

God bless you, my friends.

-Anarwyn


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